


Bodysnatchers

by lunafreckles



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, BAMF Lance, Drug Use, Gender-Neutral Pronouns for Pidge | Katie Holt, Keith and Shiro are Siblings, M/M, Smoker Lance, Smut, Stoner Lance, Swearing, Underage Drinking, Underage Smoking, all those tags about illegal substances idk all of em, idk how to explain it youll have to read to understand, ill add more tags eventually, im such a slut for bamf au's ayyy, jfc they cant keep their hands off eachother, matts still older tho, not a slowburn but theyre both really backwards with the relationship, pidge and matt are the same-ish age, theres a lotta cursing, whole squad is in this just not a main part
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-24
Updated: 2018-10-22
Packaged: 2018-12-06 12:31:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 65,326
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11600712
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lunafreckles/pseuds/lunafreckles
Summary: “Why are you so on edge?” Lance asks, as they both stand up, and he's looking past Keith outside the shop with a raised eyebrow. “What did you do?”Oh, Keith realizes, in an instant. Lance thinks he’s done something wrong. Lance thinks he is running away from the police, or some kind of gang, or something. He really couldn’t be more wrong, but Keith doesn’t exactly want to tell him ‘Ha, I’m just running away from a bunch of dicks who were attempting to beat me up for the fifth time this week,’ and so he bites his bottom lip.What would Lance want to hear?-Or alternatively: Keith pretends to be cool so that Lance will be his friend and keep people from picking on him, but it turns into something more than friendship and Keith doesn't know how long he can keep up his persona





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> so this is my first voltron fic and fuck this is weird because i havent posted fanfiction online since i was tweleve but here we are

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Heres the playlist for this specific chapter: https://open.spotify.com/user/22zirxjk424obkjxtygy4mamy/playlist/5gEZRrwJxK2J0HzCaYmdyE?si=NaM9B-9mQc2rnYpdmUK-xg
> 
> This is the one for the whole fic: https://open.spotify.com/user/22zirxjk424obkjxtygy4mamy/playlist/1bO5F6s0hQhpYVp00YLqbv

Keith is just getting his sweater from his locker when it happens.

It was Mr. Howden. A very tall, kind of chubby, red-faced man with a very receding hairline. His pair of too-tight blue jeans with some kind of orange-ish stain right in the middle of his light grey shirt, not doing anything good for his age. He taught Keith math last year, and is unfortunately his biology teacher this year, and right now he is storming down the hallway, past the masses of students at their lockers during the break, and he looks angry enough for steam to be blowing out of his ears- if, you know, that was even physically possible.

He passes Keith, and Keith can’t help but turn his gaze on the man, his eyes wide, and following him as he stomps his way past.

"McClain!" Mr. Howden bellows. The crowds of students bunched in that area quickly hustle away, past where Keith is standing, leaving only a group of friends left standing where they all were. Then Lance McClain turns around to face Mr. Howden. He’s wearing his usual, trademark smirk, of course, paired with his hands in his large dark blue sweater. He looks all too confident, though, that is something that Lance McClain always seems to be.

"Hello, Howden," he says. His blue eyes flash with amusement, even from this distance.

"McClain," Howden spits, slowing down as he comes just a few feet away from Lance. "Do you take me for some sort of child?"

"Of course not, Howden," says Lance. "What would make you think that?"

"I know what you did!" spits Howden.

Lance blinks, almost innocently, but everyone watching the scene knows him better than that. "What ever are you talking about?" He flashes a toothless grin, tilting his head to the side as if in question.

"What," Mr Howden bellows. "Is this?"

He holds up a baggy of something. Some kind of drug, Keith presumes, but he can't be sure, especially not from where he's standing. Lance pretends to squint. "Indica, Howden. Not the best kind in many people's opinion, but if it suits your tastes then by all means go for it,"Lance spouts almost cheerfully. He leans in a bit closer to Mr. Howden before continuing. "Although you probably shouldn't be showing it off like this, weed is still illegal in our state you know, and-"

By this time, Mr Howden has gone fully beet red in the face. "No, McClain,” his free hand clenching by his side. “What I’m trying to figure out is how in the world my fourteen year old daughter ended up with this?"

"I’m assuming she asked someone who's older to buy it for her, Howden," Lance shrugs. "But I do think you should probably be asking her about that, you know? Not me." 

Lance smirks.

"Oh," Mr. Howden says. "And I wonder who she bought it from, McClain."

"Again, I’m not exactly the best person to be asking about her-"

"Stop this, McClain. Do you know what I found in this damned bag?"

"Marijuana, I’m guessing. You know, since, that is what it-"

"A piece of paper" Howden growls.

“Wow, Abigail Howden never stood out to me as the kind for joints, she always striked me as a pipe kind of gal.”

At this Mr. Howden clenches the bag in his fists and takes a long deep breath, staring Lance down the entire time.

“No, McClain. This wasn't rolling paper, this was a normal piece of paper, with a nice, neat, cursive ‘x’ on it. Clearly your penmanship if I'm not misremembering from our classes together?”

Lance can’t help himself at that. He finally allows himself to laugh, and all around the hall full of students watching, there are little giggles, especially among Lance's group of friends who are with him, all snickering amongst themselves.

"This is not amusing in the slightest!" Howden yells.

"Sorry, Howden- it kind of is," Lance grins.

"Right. I have had just about enough of you!" he spits. And then he grabs Lance by the hood of his sweater and pushes him along the hall, in Keith’s direction. "We’re going to the principal, where we can once again discuss you selling on school grounds."

"Innocent until proven guilty," Lance says.

Howden’s face is red with rage as he drags Lance away. 

“And, hey! Who said anything about this happening on school grounds? Maybe the person who sold her it did it, oh I don't know, not here?”

Howden growls, and Lance laughs again.

Keith can’t help but stare, biting his bottom lip, but he’s smiling, too. Not that he knows Lance McClain. Not actually. Of course, everybody knows who Lance McClain is. He’s a senior, the year above Keith, and he’s just-

Well he’s something else, Lance is. He has this tanned skin, and these ocean blue eyes. He’s kind of slim, and he has this shaggy brown hair, that falls carelessly across his forehead but still somehow looks intricately placed, and he's got this laugh that lets everyone know he's there and having a good time, and he’s just hot and incredibly Keith's type if he wasn't Lance McClain.

And he’s always in some kind of trouble

He isn’t a fuck-boy, though, or a prick. And neither are any of his friends. They’re just- they have a reputation that's not the greatest. As in they're the kind of teenagers your parents and teachers warn you to stay away from when you're in elementary school. They’re always getting into trouble, and they take drugs, and they smoke, and vandalize, and steal and- well, that’s what Keith has heard around town anyways. He doesn’t really know them, personally. He tries to avoid them actually, because to be frank, they terrify him. They’re not known for bullying people, quite the opposite actually, they’re known for being quite passive unless they themselves are messed with, but Keith doesn’t particularly want to end up on their bad side. He’s already on the bad side of quite a lot of people in this school, and doesn't feel like just questioning the general consensus on the group in order to even begin being friendly with them. It's not like he means to be disliked by a fair mass of his peers, it just kind of happened since he doesn't talk to basically anyone. And he would rather just lay low if he's got to experience another year here after this one, anyways.

Either way, the idea of getting on the wrong side of Lance McClain and his friends- it sounds like a bad idea. A really bad idea. And it would for anyone who knows them.

So as Keith watches Lance get pushed along past him by his hood, earbuds trailing out from under his sweater, he nearly has a damn heart attack. Lance was still going on about how it was wrong for Mr. Howden to accuse him of selling drugs on school grounds and something about how he was far too smart to do that, I mean who does he take him for? And right as they pass by Keith's locker, Keith looks right at Lance, who has a smirk plastered on his face as per usual, and then it happens.

Lance winks at him. Just a quick wink, accompanied by a grin, as he is dragged past him.

—————

Oh, fuck.

Keith really didn’t mean to get himself into this situation. But, you know, he’s Keith. And he’s exactly not the most socially adept person in the world. Or the most popular. And Eric Kelly and his friends have never liked him much at all anyway.

He doesn’t really know why he tried to talk back to them. It’s not something he’s particularly suave with- but everyone, particularly Shiro, is always telling him to just stand up for himself. He could have done just that by telling them to simply fuck off, so why did he have to try being witty in the process?

Of course it didn’t work- his humor never does. And so now he is running for his life on the outskirts of the suburbs in town in the middle of the day with a bunch of people he's known for six years chasing after him, who probably want to knife him. Or at the very least, beat him up a couple times until his skin has patches of blue and purple to match the faded yellow bruises he’s already bearing from the last time he’d accidentally pissed them off.

Despite being quite skilled with martial arts, Keith isn’t exactly that sporty. But he’s very quick and agile, and so he’s pretty far ahead of them. Why doesn't he just kick the living daylights out of Eric and his crew? Keith has absolutely no fucking idea. He's just too scared that if he beats on them, it will somehow be him that gets in shit for the one time hes the one harming instead of them getting caught for the last few years of them doing the same thing. Luckily due to his skills he is very quick, and can easily dodge most punches thrown his way, so he's usually not too battered and bruised when they bother with him. 

Keith blindly stumbles through the bleak streets, worrying that for once they'll actually manage to catch up to him, and hearing their footsteps drumming against the damp pavements as he goes isn't helping that anxiety much at all. He really isn’t in the mood to be beaten to a pulp today. Not that he ever is but it’s a Friday, and he's too exhausted from school to bother dodging all their attacks over and over today. He really just wants to go home and play some game on his laptop.

He’s into the main part of the town now, and he hopes that maybe they’ll fuck off and leave him alone, since there are people around, many people, families and couples and you'd think that they'd have the common sense to leave Keith alone with so many people watching. But then again they probably don't.

Keith turns his head back, just for a moment, to see if they’re still behind him. They are, and they're much closer than they had been before, and Keith knows that he's not gonna make it home without tiring out, slowing down, and allowing them to come even closer. So he quickly maneuvers to the closest shop and opens the door hastily, still watching behind him. Then, of course, the worst possible thing that could happen to him in the store happens. 

He’s panting, still, just as he steps past the entrance, and he feels himself hit someone, and both of them fall.

Immediately, Keith scoots back, with a string of apologies falling from his mouth in between heavy breaths as he sees a plastic bag spill out onto the floor.

“Oh God, I’m so sorry, I had no idea what I was doing, or where I was going, gosh, I-”

“Wow, it’s fine, man” says a voice. And then the owner of that voice sits up, before clambering to his feet and rubbing his neck. "Really." And he chuckles.

Of course. It’s Lance McClain. Of fucking course it is.

Keith’s life flashes before his eyes. He’s going to have a murder attempt on him, right here, in the middle of an unknown store at the hands of none other than Lance McClain.

“You good, man?” Lance asks, one eyebrow raised.

“Yeah- I just- I’m sorry,” says Keith, wheezing and panting a little bit less than he had been beforehand. “I just. Yeah. Fuck. Sorry.”

Lance chuckles and bends back down to gather up his bag. Keith realizes upon seeing a Radiohead vinyl, which he would recognize anywhere, being placed back into Lance's bag that read ‘April Records’ that he had ran into a music shop. Honestly that is the only good thing about this whole situation.

“Why are you so on edge?” Lance asks, as they both stand up, and he's looking past Keith outside the shop with a raised eyebrow. “What did you do?”

Oh, Keith realizes, in an instant. Lance thinks he’s done something wrong. Lance thinks he is running away from the police, or some kind of gang, or something. He really couldn’t be more wrong, but Keith doesn’t exactly want to tell him ‘Ha, I’m just running away from a bunch of dicks who were attempting to beat me up for the fifth time this week,’ and so he bites his bottom lip. What would Lance want to hear?

Lance is looking at him, a small smirk painted on his lips, as usual- and, Jesus fucking Christ, he is so fucking hot this is a big problem. He still has one eyebrow raised, waiting for an explanation with his arms folded across his chest and, fuck-

“Just,” Keith chokes out. “Pissed off a couple of people.”

Lance grins. “Oh? How’d you do that? Always pretty entertaining to see.”

“Oh- uh,” Keith stutters. He thinks back to the hallway this morning, when Lance got in shit with Mr. Howden, and to PE lessons, while on the soccer field, and what Eric Kelly and his friends used to talk about with each other. “They, uh, tried to con my friend when they sold him a gram, so- I took it, y’know. Chucked it to my friend, and, then we, uh, booked it.” Keith sighs, and let's out a soft "Yeah," convincing both Lance and himself of that story

Lance laughs his laugh that is like an announcement to the world. “Oh, man. I wish i'd have seen their faces. Fuckin’ priceless. Nothing worse than being fucked over when it comes to your weed, right?” He steps back to the wall of records behind them and leans back on the shelves. Keith kind of screams internally at himself, because what the fuck is Lance McClain doing making it look like this is going to a longer conversation? Keith is already exhausted from the little sentences he's said so far, let alone whatever else he's gonna have to say.

“Uh, yeah, nope,” Keith shakes his head, awkwardly taking a step to follow Lance back to the wall. Not because he wanted to, honest, he just felt bad about blocking the entrance. And also Eric Kelly would have been able to see him easier while standing here, than he would have seen him standing blocked by the opaque door.

“Sounds like they were assholes, though.”

“Believe me, they are,” Keith coughs. He looks over his shoulder out of the window. Eric Kelly and his friends are there on the sidewalk just outside the shop, staring at Lance and Keith with questioning expressions, all speaking among themselves. As bad-ass as they like to think that they are, none of them are up for getting on the wrong side of Lance McClain. And so they give Keith dirty looks, but eventually slope away, crossing to the other side of the street, sending a few strange glances back towards him and Lance.

“They still after you?” Lance asks.

“Uh,” Keith bites his bottom lip again. “Don’t think so. Think I lost them coming in here. Thanks.”

“Thanks?” Lance questions with a chuckle. “For what?”

“Oh, Uh. I don’t know.” Keith stammers scratching the back of his head. “Just in general I- I guess?”

Lance smirks, again. “What’s your name again?”

“Keith.”

“I’m Lance.”

Keith fights against the ‘I know’ from slipping out of his mouth, like it would have in the typical awkward encounter in some bad teen romantic comedy. Instead, he just smiles back at Lance, nodding. “Oh. Right. Hi, Lance.”

“You’re kind of cute,” Lance laughs. This makes Keith's face heat up, and he's sure he's gone a little red. Only a little, but he knows it's definitely very noticeable on his pale skin. “So why’d you run in here in the first place? I've never seen you in here before.”

Keith stutters. “Oh I- It was just the closest shop that didn't, uh, look sketchy.” Fuck. He should've lied. Said he just loved music or something nonchalant and mysterious. Well, him loving music wouldn't be a lie, but it would've been a better truth than that atrocity of an answer he just gave. He probably sounded so fucking uncool in comparison to everything else he's set himself up to be.

“Yeah I get you, shops downtown are pretty sketch. A lot of untrustworthy people.”

Keith relaxes at that. Okay, he somehow said the right thing, this is good, but he has no clue how he can he keep this up.

“I, uh, I saw the vinyl you bought. Is it for yourself, or?” Keith’s pretty damn proud of himself for continuing the conversation. And he's even more proud when Lance grins at him once again.

“Yeah, it's for myself. You like Radiohead?” Lance asks, sounding genuinely intrigued. Keiths chest spins.

“Yeah uh, love them. My brother and I saw them when I was younger.” Keith replies, feeling a bit more relaxed to be talking about something other than drugs. Or maybe he’s just more relaxed because he actually likes Radiohead, unlike whatever the fuck they were discussing before, and Shiro is someone who is familiar to him in this very unfamiliar conversation he's experiencing. Keith's already trying to get rid of the thoughts of how awful that conversation was for him to get through.

“Dude, that's so fucking cool, I wish. I’m the oldest in my house so if I were to go to a concert with one of my brothers it'd probably be, like, Selena Gomez, or something, I don't know,” Lance chuckles. “I mean I'm not one to criticize pop music, fucking love the shit, but something about her just makes me want to ring out my fucking neck.”

“Yeah,” Keith manages, kind of taken aback by the random spout of knowledge he just got about the elusive Lance McClain.

Lance tilts his head to the side, smirk back in place. “So, hey, weird proposal but if you give me your number and I text you my address- would you wanna come to a party tomorrow night?”

Keith’s eyes widen. “Uh. Yeah? Sure. Maybe. Why?”

Lance grins again, ignoring Keith's question at the end. “What’s your number, then?”

Keith stutters it out, and Lance adds it to his phone, looking all too pleased as he does so.

“Uh, why are you- I mean, you don’t know me so- why?” Keith asks, biting his lip again.

“You just sound pretty awesome, honestly,” Lance says. “You actually like music that isn't a typical favourite of people our age in this town, which I know sounds pretentious but it's just very refreshing. Also pissing off assholes is one of my favourite past-times,” he shakes his head. “Other than meeting very attractive people of course,” he chuckles and winks at Keith. He blushes immensely. “So I just wanna get to know you more, I suppose.”

Keith takes a long breath.

“So I’ll see you tomorrow night then, maybe?” Lance asks.

“Yeah,” Keith says, weakly. “Maybe.”

Lance winks at him again momentarily, and then he’s off, giving him a small wave as he walks out of the shop and leaving Keith alone by the old records a little dazed.

What the fuck did Keith just do?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> follow me on tumblr if u wanna be up to date with this and ask questions: dragonaire.tumblr.com  
> 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keith is just struggling to figure out how to feel about the whole situation with Lance man. Its a lot of character introductory shit idk
> 
> \----------
> 
> Heres the playlist for this specific chapter: https://open.spotify.com/user/22zirxjk424obkjxtygy4mamy/playlist/0yn1gzagBIivWpsWTJ8aKR?si=qEWwspezT5uoD7ZkPVR1Ow
> 
> This is the one for the whole fic: https://open.spotify.com/user/22zirxjk424obkjxtygy4mamy/playlist/1bO5F6s0hQhpYVp00YLqbv

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> MY BES FRIEN (sea.asparagus on instagram) DREW ART FOR THE FIRST CHAPTER OF THIS FIC IM FUCKIN SHAKING !!! WE STAN  
> http://dragonaire.tumblr.com/post/163515102507/when-u-cry-bc-ur-bes-frien-le-roi-nous-abandone

"Are you actually being serious about this?" Matt asks, his eyebrows raised.

Keith bites his lip. "Um, yeah. What do I do?"

"Wait," Matt says. "So tell me again. Lance McClain invited you to his party?"

"That’s what I just-"

"No, no, no, you're not understanding what I need clarification on here. Lance McClain. _Lance McClain_ , Invited you to his party?"

"Why are you asking like something's wrong with me?" Keith says, slightly begrudgingly.

"No offense, Keith," says Pidge. "But you’re not exactly the kind of person who’d be- let's just say- top of a popular guy’s party invitation list?" Pidge says. “Or any guy's party list for that matter.”

Pidge looks to their brother ans smirks as they share a look. Keith huffs.

"Why not?" Keith protests. "And do people actually have invitation lists? I thought that was just a thing in coming-of-age movies-"

"Make that anyone’s invitation list," Matt adds to Pidge’s beforehand comment. "Since when does Lance McClain even know who you are, Keith?"

Keith blushes. "I kind of bumped into him after school and, I think I accidentally managed to give him the impression that I was… bad?"

Pidge blinks. "What the hell do you mean by that? Bad?"

“You know, like, edgy, I guess?” Keith tries to explain. “I think he’s under the impression that I do drugs and get into fights and like, piss off people, and other things like that" Keith mumbles.

"The fuck would make him think that?" Matt snorts.

"Misunderstanding, and, uh, big nerves on my part."

"It’s partly true, I guess," Pidge says hastily. “I mean you are pretty edgy with your My Chemical Romance shirts. Being the king of emo over here, you could definitely pass for actually being edgy if, you know, you didn't speak.”

“Fuck off Pidge, I haven't worn those shirts since freshman year, stop bullying me.”

"Also, I mean-" Pidge continues on, blatantly ignoring Keiths defences. "You do piss people off, especially me, but… I’m assuming that he thinks that you do it on purpose and get a kick out of it, rather than knowing they just want to beat the shit out of you every other day, just because- well, because you're your emo self."

"Um. Yeah. Probably," Keith says.

"So Lance thinks you’re bad? Like _'cool bad'_   like him and his friends?" Matt asks.

Keith gives him one nod in responce.

"You? Keith, have you ever even got into trouble at school? Even like- I don’t know- a detention? For late homework or sleeping in class? Anything?"

Keith shifts uncomfortably. "Not since my parents died, no-"

"Oh wow, yeah, good luck making conversation with Lance tomorrow night, then sweaty,” Pidge tells him. “He'll be all like ‘Wow, drugs, strippers, Juvie!’ and you'll just be sitting there like ‘Yeah, Lance, I’m totally bad, back in eighth grade my parents died so I listened to MCR. I'm pretty hardcore.’”

Keith rolls his eyes. He knows Pidge is right, the only thing that's ‘bad’ about him is that his parents have both passed, but even that hasn't affected the things he does in his spare time. He was a bad and fake emo. He had never even thought about smoking, which is something every emo kid he wanted to be did.

Matt sighs. “Not just that, but isn’t he on all kinds of different drugs too? He has a god damned criminal record-"

"Maybe you shouldn’t go?" Pidge suggests. "I mean, I'm all for you embarrassing yourself, but, no offense Keith it just- it doesn’t really sound like your thing. And this would be a whole other level, that I'm pretty sure we all know you wouldn't be able to handle the backlash from if it were to blow up."

"But," Keith protests. "When I was talking to Lance; Eric Kelly and all of them- they all just backed off. They’ve never done that before."

Pidge rolls their eyes. "Of course they did. They probably thought Lance was going to stab them, Keith, because that's the kind of guy he's known to be."

Keith goes a little pale. "Do you think he actually carries a knife?"

"Hell if I know," Matt shrugs. "What’s your point here, anyways?"

"My point is- I mean- what if Lance and I became friends? What if we got along? Eric and them might all leave me alone. And for good."

Matt and Pidge exchange a glance. "I guess that’d be possible-" Matt starts.

"Though how you’re going to befriend Lance McClain, I have no idea," Pidge interrupts.

"Thanks for your support, Pidge," says Keith sarcastically. "It means a lot."

"I just- I don't know… People say some pretty crazy things about Lance and his friends."

Matt shakes his head and sits down on Pidge’s bed. "Keith, have you thought any of this through?" He asks. "Because- well, what exactly are you planning to do or say tomorrow?"

Keith shrugs his shoulders. "I’ll think of something. It’s just like- I don’t know. It's just like acting or something for a long time. How hard could it be?"

Matt looks amused. "Keith you can't act for shit. You used to get D’s in drama until you were allowed to drop it, and still any time you have to recite a play in english class you stutter every single word you read."

"Yeah…"

"And remember in kindergarten? You had to recite bah bah black sheep but just broke down in tears-"

"And in seventh grade he fainted in the Shakespeare play!" Pidge adds.

Keith glares at the both of them. Sometimes it feels like having been so close with the Holt siblings for so long, we was cursed. The three of them know everything about eachother, and all seem to have a habit of bringing up each other’s most embarrassing moments from the last 12 years. Which would be fine but- apparently, things go wrong for Keith the most- as they make sure to remind him on a daily basis of his worst moments, since they have some sibling pact of some kind and seem to enjoy ganging up on him the most.

"I hate you," he decides.

Pidge smirks.

"We just don’t want this to end badly for you, man," says Matt. "People don’t say good things about Lance and those people-"

"They do."

"I mean, of course they say good things. But the kind of good things they talk about isn't anything good in the eyes of the law. They say that he's cool because he gave pot cookies to a seventh grader. Is that good in your opinion?"

"But he seemed so nice when we spoke," Keith says.

"Maybe he is nice," Matt suggests. "I don’t know him really, none of us do. I’m just saying, that he could genuinely be the sweetest guy on Earth, but he still might get you into trouble. More trouble than it's worth, Keith."

"And you get into enough trouble without even meaning to, anyways," says Pidge. “I don't think you need that kind of help from anyone, especially from the likes of Lance McClain.”

Keith sighs. "Yeah, okay. I guess you are right. I probably won't end up going."

-

It’s later that evening while walking home from Pidge and Matt's that gets a text from Lance.

_i live at 844 aldershot dr… hope to see you there cutie ;) xx_

Keith’s kind of questioning the kisses and the winky face, because who actually uses winky faces unironically anymore, and who in America uses kisses in texts? Then again it is Lance McClain and he's not your cookie cutter all-american boy. The pet name was particularly throwing Keith for a spin, but it also sort of makes him want to go, despite how he’d pretty much already decided against it. He doesn’t want to make a fool of himself, anymore so than he already has in life, but there are so many things that could go wrong if he did go.

His mind wanders to the fuckheads at school. Will Eric Kelly and his friends be there? Probably not, Lance is not exactly popular, really. Despite being known throughout the whole town, he doesn't make it any kind of mission for himself to be friends with the other popular kids. His friends seem to keep to themselves generally, and so Lance does as well, even if it wouldn't look that way at a simple glance. Despite this, most people have a strange fixation on the lot of them, always trying to impress them and find out more about them. They’re considered 'legends’ for all kinds of reasons, that honestly, seem kind of dumb and irrelevant in Keith’s mind. If they got caught for half of the shit they supposedly do, they’d all be expelled and arrested on the spot. Luckily for them, that's where their secrecy in regards to others comes in handy.

There’s a general consensus of fear surrounding them, despite the ever present intrigue that follows them as well. That’s why Eric Kelly had left him alone when he saw Lance speaking to Keith in the shop. Whether the things Keith’s heard drifting around the school hall’s are true or not, no one wants to mess with a boy who has the reputation that Lance does, and so most people don’t even bother.

As he opens the door to his house, he lets out a long awaited sigh, and takes off his shoes.

“Keith?” A voice calls from the other side of the house.

“Who else would it be?” He answers, walking to the kitchen.

The house smelled of pizza, which was nothing new since pizza was one of the only things ever made in his house, especially when it's Shiro in charge of food.

As Keith turns into the kitchen he puts his bag down on one of the chairs, and is instantly met with Shiro tossing him a water bottle.

“How was school, Keith?”

Keith's breathing hitches, followed by a fast lie.

“Fine, I guess,” he spits out while opening the bottle. “Nothing new, really.”

Keith felt strange lying to Shiro. He wanted to tell him about his day so fucking bad, but felt that Shiro wouldn't get why it was such a big deal to him. Of course Shiro knew who Lance McClain was, they went to school together when Lance was a Freshman and he was a Senior. Shiro hadn't really talked about Lance much back then, other than the one time he apparently fucked one of Shiro's close friends. Shiro wouldn't shut up about how ‘this kid just acted like he could do whatever he wanted because he fucked a hot senior girl.’ Keith supposes that's when all the rumours about Lance started.

“Its Friday, huh,” Shiro says moving on from the awkward school conversation he always tries to have. “Another week done. You have any plans?”

“Actually, maybe.”

Shiro chokes a little bit on the pizza slice he was chewing.

“Party?” Shiro asks.

Keith nods.

“Yeah?”

“I said it's only a maybe, I'm not sure if I even want to go,” Keith explains, trying to tiptoe around the little bit of knowledge that his plans were attending a druggie party, specifically. He takes a bite of his food.

“Why are you so nervous to go?” Shiro inquires.

Keith stares down at the pizza in his hand for a moment. Why was he so nervous to go? He was nervous to go because he had no idea what he could even expect at this party. He was scared that he would fuck up his plans and get on the bad side of Lance and his friends. He was scared because he would be at this party without anyone he knows. And he's scared because it is Lance McClain’s party.

But Keith couldn't say all of that.

"Because It's a party," he answers, taking a bite of his pizza.

Shiro rolls his eyes.

“Well, fine I- I'm not really sure, I just,” Keith sighs. “I'm just not that close with the guy who invited me.”

Shiro looks at Keith with a slight frown. His gaze making Keith squirm a little with worry that he would pester for more information that Keith really didn't want to give.

“You should go,” Shiro finally decides, smiling at Keith. “Just because you don't know him that well doesn't mean it'll be horrible. It's worth the shot to go, he must have invited you for a reason.”

Just as he was about to reply, Keith's phone buzzes forcing him to look down at it beside his plate.

_oh also dont worry about ur own stuff. unless you're a brand whore, we'will supply :) x_

“It’s him,” Keith announces before he can be asked.

“What's he saying?”

“Just some information about the party,” Keith answers looking up from his phone, and moving his hands from under the table to grab it.

“Does the information help at all with your decision on whether you want to go or not?”

Keith isn't sure how to answer that. He didn't have an answer for it.

“I’m not really sure,” Keith answers honestly.

“Well if you decide you do want to go, just make sure to tell me, so I'm prepared for you to come home wasted.”

“What the hell, Shiro!”

“Well it is high schoolers, I'm not blind to the fact that there's most likely going to be alcohol at this party,” Shiro says while grabbing two of the last three pizza slices from the box. “Whether you chose to drink or not if you do go is fine, it's totally up to you. I'm not going to try and tell you whether you should or not because you're a smart kid, you know your shit. Just know that it's healthy to do something you normally wouldn't do sometimes.”

Keith gives Shiro a half smile, and watches as he goes towards the staircase. “See you, later,” he says and Shiro gives a small wave of goodbye as he ascends up until no longer visible.

Its healthy to do something you normally wouldn't.

Keith raises up the sleeves of his sweater, looking at all the shades of yellow from the last time he had hurt himself dodging Eric and his friends. Though they hadn't managed to actually land a hit on him in nearly a six months, the exhaustion he experienced most weeks due to running from them took its toll at times. Keith was sick of being beaten up and getting hurt. He’s sick of feeling the taste of blood in his mouth and sick of swollen and blue stained hips.

Lance could stop that. If Keith was good in Lance's mind, all that running may stop.

And surely, anything is worth putting a stop to all of the immature bullying, even if it is a big risk to do this. Keith knew nearly nothing about the world that Lance was in, and yet he thought he may have a chance at pulling this off. Whatever this is that he's trying to do is completely out of his character but, it's healthy to do something you normally wouldn't.

Still unsure, Keith’s fingers seem to work on their own accord, as he swipes open his phone with Shiro's words from dinner playing through his mind.

_Okay ! yeah ill see you there x_

After all, what’s the worst that could happen?

And then he decides not to answer that. Because there is an endless list of things that could go completely and utterly wrong, but similarly, everything could go completely well, and change. Lance doesn’t know him, and Keith highly doubts that any of his friends do, either. He can re-invent his image around them, and it isn’t like they’ll know any better. Keith has always been creative, in his own way at least. His imagination could stretch across the entirety of an ocean when it has to, and he can create characters in his head. He’s not much of an actor, but the actors are simply the people that become the character- but everything that character is made of comes from more than just acting. It comes from the screenplay writers, and Keith could definitely be one of those.

Surely, if he can re-create himself for the purposes of tomorrow night, he can easily slip into the character just for a couple of hours. How hard can it be?

He decides not to answer that question, either.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> follow me on tumblr if u wanna be up to date with this and ask questions: dragonaire.tumblr.com


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Parties are scary and Keith gets a lil too comfortable
> 
> Smut scene at the end, skip if u wanna idk

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i wanted to post this now because lets be real s3 premiers tm and imma be too shook to write
> 
> \----------
> 
> Heres the playlist for this specific chapter: https://open.spotify.com/user/22zirxjk424obkjxtygy4mamy/playlist/20leSAvr4NerN261M0K3xW?si=YZPMLOkMR_OAKSpR1lXyeA
> 
> This is the one for the whole fic: https://open.spotify.com/user/22zirxjk424obkjxtygy4mamy/playlist/1bO5F6s0hQhpYVp00YLqbv

It’s Saturday night and Keith is taking one last short glance at himself in the mirror. This is probably one of his worse ideas. Pidge barely took him seriously when he’d sent the hasty text in the groupchat saying that he was going, and Matt was just concerned for his general well-being.

Keith’s not 100% sure what’s making him go but, well, he is.

The boy staring back at him through the mirror doesn’t look particularly bad, or even on a par with Lance and his friends. A head of black hair, very white skin, dark eyes; his skinny jeans hang off of him and his grey t-shirt is a little baggy on his torso. But Keith is naturally skinny- no matter how much he tends to over exercise, most things end up being a little baggy on him in some places, other than his red leather jacket, which he throws on over top since it's the middle of April during the night and he's a wimp when it comes to the cold.

He’s never even drank alcohol outside of a familial setting before, excluding that one Christmas at Shiro’s ex girlfriend's house two years back, and, oh God, Keith had gotten drunk along with the rest of their friends, and spent the early hours of the morning violently throwing up his guts into the toilet. But that was some sort of a family Christmas tradition apparently; getting shit faced with Shiro's friends all Christmas eve long then suffering the next morning together. Shiro and Keith’s parents always had friends and their kids come over Christmas eve, ever since he was old enough to understand a tradition. They would let the kids fuck around in the basement on the gamecube while they got drunk. This is probably why the Christmas tree was always upstairs, so the adults could put the santa gifts out before getting drunk and the kids couldn't see it, you know, when Keith's parents were still around.

His stomach turns a little at the thought, and it doesn’t take much longer than a few seconds for him to decide that- for the most part- he’ll be steering clear of alcohol tonight. He checks his phone, and it’s drawing closer to the time he told Lance he’d be arriving. He also has a text from Pidge in the group chat.

_pls dont get McFuvkcign stabbed tonight_

Keith rolls his eyes. It’s good to see how much faith his friends have in his social abilities.

He sends an annoyed reaction image and plugs his headphones in for the walk.

———

When he arrives on Aldershot Drive, it doesn’t take the genius in him to figure out which house is Lance’s, but he kind of wishes that his perception was wrong.

Keith didn't pay much mind when he googled the directions to Lances, but he wishes he had paid more attention the the fact that Aldershot drive was a higher class area of the city.

Keith didn't even know Lance came from a family with money, not that it matters in any way at all, it's just making him even more anxious, because what if that means theres a whole other level that he has to portray for Lance to even consider being his friend? Does Keith now have to act like a rich druggie and not just a regular one? God, he really hopes he doesn't. What even does a rich drug person act like?

Keith's having a mini crisis on the curb.

There's music playing inside of Lance's house, a little too loudly for a suburb, especially one of this class. The bass and the general sound carries out through the paneling , and out into the damp street. There’s an abundance of cars scattered up the street, too. The wide path leading up to his large blue front door is littered with cigarette butts and other miscellaneous garbage.

Keith grimaces a little. He’s never really been to this kind of party, but if it’s anything like the ones he used to watch on CW shows, then it already isn’t his thing. But, you know what? Fuck it, he thinks, hesitantly knocking his fist against the door.

he doesn't even have time to overthink anything, because It’s swung open barely a few moments later by Lance himself.

He’s grinning at Keith, and as he grabs him by the wrist, pulling him inside. Keith can’t help but allow the thought of ‘fuck, he's hot’ to slip through his mind.

“Hey,” Lance says. “Glad you could make it.”

His eyes are a little glazed over, and he smells strongly of smoke. He’s got a bottle in his hand that's some type of cider, and the music is even louder than he initially thought it was. The large house is filled with people who Lance knows and people who know Lance; nobody knows Keith, and Keith doesn't know them, and he has never felt more out of place in his life. All he has is his jacket to sink into and his hair to hide behind, which is just a little more than terrifying to him.

To his left was a large crowd of kids, who some he reconized as being sophomores, all huddled closely to one another and laughing loudly on when seems to be very expensive dining room furnature. the left was a living room, a large flat screen television displaying whoever was in charge of the music's spotify, with even more people around that than there was in the dining room.

Fucking hell, this was a mistake. Keith offers a smile, albeit forcefully, but closing the door behind him nevertheless. He swallows back his desire to run, and instead he inwardly reminds himself that this is acting. This isn’t Keith Kogane who hangs out in libraries, has two friends to this day, and who is best friends with his Brother- this can be Keith. Keith, who takes pride in getting a bruise or two, and finds the humour in getting on the wrong side of the wrong people.

Maybe this Keith- this new, and possibly improved Keith, can hold his drink as well as Keith Kogane holds his own in video games, and maybe he can keep a conversation like Keith Kogane can keep a 95% average in all his classes. Maybe this Keith will fit right in here.

Screw kindergarten and that Shakespeare play, and fuck his old drama classes. This is different. Keith isn’t going to cry, or faint, and the only equivalent of a D in this scenario anyway is a black eye and that isn’t so bad, not really, he’s had far worse.

He’s fine; he's dealt with way more emotional baggage in his past than lying to some rebellious eighteen year old is ever going to cause him.

The smile becomes a little less forced, and Keith relaxes, and Lance’s warm fingers are still idly brushing against his pale wrist, as he pulls him between the small groups of people littered throughout the living room and into the kitchen.

"Want a drink?" Lance asks, sending Keith another smile over his shoulder, and Keith just nods, because- in all honesty, he doesn’t really know how to say no in this character version of himself and Lance just looks so confident in himself that it seems like a crime to say no to him.

He’s not going to get drunk. But maybe just having a drink in his hands will help calm his nerves, and help him ease into the role of New Keith, since drinking is definitely something this Keith would do. That’d definitely help his anxiety lesson.

Lance passes him a can. Keith doesn’t really know what it is, exactly, and doesnt really bother to check, but he sends Lance a grateful- if a little shy- smile, as he opens it up and takes a small sip. The taste is unfamiliar, it burns a little in his throat, but it isn’t too bad. He can deal with it, and after a few more sips he becomes a little more accustomed to the citrus taste and strange feeling.

Lance watches Keith drink for a little while, leaving Keith to wonder what he was expecting from him. Keith keeps his eyes everywhere except for on Lance. He watches people wash in and out of the door on the other side of Lances kitchen island, screen door waving, never staying in one place. It simotaniously hightens his anxiety and gives him a sense of calm.

Keith decides that a mix of emotions like that is bad and takes another sip of his drink.

“Thanks,” he decides to say.

"S’no problem," Lance says. He looks satisfied with that. "So- wait. Keith, right? I’m so shit with names-" Lance cuts himself off with a laugh. "And I'm also a bit high so thats not helping me much."

Keith nods, shyly, ignoring the part about him being stoned. But he knows this isn’t the way he’s supposed to be acting.

"Yeah, and you’re Lance?" he attempts to weave some confidence in the question, and though he’s unsure if it works, he at least manages to keep any kind of squeak or stutters out of his voice.

"Yep, I’m Lance,” He replies, seemingly oblivious to the fact that Keith definitely knew who Lance was.

Lance hops onto the kitchen island with ease then, taking another sip from his drink. “I think I’ve seen you around school before, yeah?"

"Probably. I mean- I’ve seen you. Quite a lot to be honest,” Keith panics and continues speaking. “Uh- everyone has. Seen you, you know?"

Wow, what a great impression you’re making, he thinks, inwardly hitting himself. He may have avoided the stereotypical, “I know” cliche response yesterday, but he just made up for that by being an idiot again.

“Yeah, guess that’s fair,” Lance muses. "I’m pretty sure I’ve seen you around. Though you’re always just so quiet and pretty hidden. I never thought you’d be as cool as you've been."

Keith can’t help the blush that begins to spread over his cheeks. "I- thanks. I’m not really that- well, loud. I suppose."

"No?" Lance raises one eyebrow, teasingly. "Well, I’m glad I got to know the real Keith, you know?” Keith’s chest pings. “Didn’t know there were any other cool people around. School’s full of cunts."

"That’s true," Keith mutters. "Also I- I prefer to keep my, I guess, my life in general, on the down-low."

Lance grins. "I guess I can see why. Makes you all mysterious and stuff; really plays into that whole edgy emo vibe you’ve got going on,” Lance chuckles, earning a pout from Keith. He didn’t need Matt, Pidge, and now Lance McClain too, calling him emo. Lance laughs at Keith's reaction. “No, but really, you should hang out with all of us sometime."

"All of us?"

"Yeah! Or, yikes, I mean not everyone here, obviously. I don’t even know half of the people who are here," he laughs a little. “Most of the people here are friends of my sister, Iliana, then the other ones are friends of my friends.”

Keith nods, finding some comfort in him not being the only odd one out who knows no one. Though they definatley arent on the same level of unfamiliarness, Keith decides to not overthink it. He lets himself take a deep breath in as Lance starts to drink, and leans back against the counter thats behind him.

Lance sighs. "But my friends. They’re pretty fucking cool. They’re around here, somewhere, probably out back by the fire pit right now- I’ll introduce you later if they decide to let themselves appear"

Of fucking course this house has a fire pit, Keith bets they have a hot tub and a pool table too.

"Oh?" Keith studies Lance’s face, looking for any hint that this is all an elaborate joke, or some kind of scheme set up to humiliate Keith. Yet he finds no trace of mockery and so he relaxes. "That’d be- yeah. That’d be neat."

 _Neat._  Keith wants to bash his head on the cabinets above him, but Lance laughs again, just faintly, and Keith forgets the urge just as suddenly as it appeared. Lance puts his drink down on the counter beside him, and reaching out he places his hands on Keiths shoulders, essentially forcing him to move closer to where Lance is sitting. Keith puts his drink down behind him as he moves foward, and Lance clasps Keith’s free hand in his own as Keith does so. Keith gasps lightly at the sudden contact, but allows Lance to curl their fingers together, and stroke the back of Keith’s hand ever so softly. His touch is warm. "You’re so cute," he says, playing with Keith's fingers in his other hand. "All nervous and shit. You don’t have to be."

Lance's eyes are fixed on their interlocked hands, watching as he pushes Keith’s fingers up and back while his other hand is still rubbing the back of his hand. A small smirk is evident on Lance’s lips, and Keith feels sort of breathless watching this whole situation take place.

"I’m not-" Keith stutters, trying to find the right words, but it’s made difficult with Lance’s warm touch. Keith moves his free hand to lay on top of Lance's, and then he looks up from their hands and meets Keith’s eyes with his own. Lance’s gaze seems to leave Keith unable to speak for a moment, stuck looking on as Lance watches his every movement. Fuck, Lance has nice eyes, all coloured like the tides and yet still warm, and his thick eyelashes frame them perfectly. "I- I’m not nervous I just- I’m not very- well, social interaction isn’t, um, my strongest skill."

"Yeah, it's a lot," Lance grins. "I get it, man. School’s full of dicks, like I said. I mean, how do you know I’m not just another asshole, right?"

"Oh, right."

"Well," Lance says. He unwinds their pile of hands so that each of his hands are just held by one of Keiths. He’s smirking now, as he leans in towards Keith, his breath hot the closer he gets against Keith’s skin, dancing along his neck. "You can trust me when I say I’m not."

Keith lets out a shuddery breath that he began holding when Lance had moved in close. Keith stares blankly at Lance's chest as he tries to compose himself enough to be able to speak. "That’s good," he whispers, and he doesn’t know how Lance can hear him above the music and the loud yells of people in the living room and outside alike, but apparently he can, because he’s still grinning as he pulls back slightly and wraps his arms around Keith's neck, running his hands through Keith’s hair before pulling the hair tie out and running his fingers through the longer locks.

It’s in that moment that Keith realizes just how fucking screwed he really is.

They’re still talking in the corner of Lance’s kitchen almost an hour later, except at some point Lance had moved from the kitchen island to the counter beside one of the windows, and Keith is sitting on the counter aside Lance with his one leg crossed under him and the other up, head on his knee and facing the boy. Lance has one hand laying on Keith’s open knee, tracing out circles with his fingers across the rips in them, his other holding a cigarette up to his mouth, blowing smoke out the window away from Keith every few seconds, which he is very thankful for. Keith’s watching Lance as his head is lazily leaning against his kitchen cabinets, then rolls it to look at Keith, and Keith is blushing because it’s pretty fucking obvious to him right now that Lance has been flirting- he isn’t even trying to hide it.

"Want a drag?" Lance asks, raising his eyebrows and leaning in closer to Keith’s face as he notices his gaze slide down towards the lit cigarette held between his fingers.

Keith nods, on impulse, and he doesn’t exactly know why he has. Smoking has never ever been on the top of his bucket list, but then again it’s Lance McClain who’s offering it to him, at a party, and Keith just doesn’t know how to say no in a situation like this. The kid has his hand practically in Keith’s lap for fuck sake, it's natural that he has no self control over something like this.

Besides, one cigarette won't actually hurt, right? That’s what Keith’s always heard, anyways.

Lance gives a grin and hands Keith the cigarette by his end as he sits up more. Keith, luckily, still has the image of Lance holding it up to his lips and inhaling, and so he copies his movements, more-or-less, hoping that he doesn’t look like as big of an idiot as he feels. He lets the cigarette linger on his lips for just a few moments, breathing in lightly until he can feel waves of smoke hit the back of his throat and he inhales again, however he leaves it for just a few seconds too long, and then he is choking and spluttering, holding the cigarette as far away from himself as he can manage.

Lance bursts out laughing as Keith coughs. His other hand makes its way to Keith’s other leg as well.

"You never smoked before?" he asks, teasingly, now rubbing shapes into both of Keith's legs.

Holy, shit.

"Yeah," Keith croaks. He coughs again, clearing his throat, and scoots back on the counter, swinging his one leg off, taking a sip of his third drink of the night (which he knows this time to be a Somersby) in order to clear his throat. Although the sudden inhalation of the smoke has made him a little light-headed, Lance’s hands were distracting him, and he didn’t need that when he felt like he was going to die from coughing. "Just- not in a while, I mean. It’s really only a social thing for me. And then there’s, you know, the alcohol. Sorry,"

"Don’t be sorry," Lance shrugs. "I still cough all the time, god, especially with weed. I get you, though- guess you’ve been clean of it for a while then, I suppose?"

"I guess so, yeah" Keith murmurs. "Just haven’t had the- um, opportunity to for a while…” he trails off looking away from Lance and out the window at the flickering fire out back. “Like I said, I'm more of a social smoker and it’s been a long while since I've been, you know, social."

Lance nods, taking the nearly finished cigarette from Keith’s hands, and taking one long drag before putting it out on his now empty beer can and dropping it in. "Want one of your own?"

Keith lets out a small cough again, and quickly chugs most of his drink to help ease his throat again.

"Sure," Keith says, though he isn’t really sure why he’s saying it as Lance let’s out some of the smoke from his last drag. Lance fumbles for his jacket that’s out of arm's reach on the counter, and eventually retrieves a blue packet of smokes from one of the pockets, and hands one towards Keith.

"Here you go," Lance says, smiling. Keith was a little confused to say the least, and Lance must have picked up on that. Keith was obviously no expert on cigarettes, but he was pretty damn sure he needed a lighter of some kind to get one to work. Lance laughs.

“Oh, yeah, here, I’ve got you,” Lance says grabbing a lighter from his jean pocket. “Let me light you.”

Keith’s breathing shakes at that, but he’s still nodding nonetheless, secretly thankful of having one less thing to possibly make a fool out of himself with, and putting the white paper between his lips. Keith adjusts so that he's closer to Lance again, their legs nearly interlocked, and he seesLance smirks at that. Keith keeps his eyes locked on Lance's as he leans in close, lighting up the fire and holding it at the end of the cigarette for a few moments while Keith is completely entranced. And then Lance leans back again, the flame dying, and Keith blows the smoke away from Lance’s direction, still keeping eye contact.

And, God, How Lance is believing this entire facade, Keith has no idea. Yet it seems to be working alright. He then reaches out for Keith, pulling him close enough that Keiths leg is totally in Lance's lap and Lance smiles.

Keith tries for a smile back, before Lance is lighting up his own cigarette, finally breaking the long time eye contact.

With a sigh, he wonders what Matt and Pidge would say if they saw him like this. Matt would probably be fearful; Pidge would be impressed but probably laughing.

Keith feels all three of those moods right now.

———

It’s about two hours later when Lance finds some of his friends. They’re sat on one of the couches in the living room beside the kitchen, laughing at some story some guy is telling, and Keith feels oddly relieved at the sight. Lance’s friends all seem so normal like this, if Keith ignores the two joints being passed around and the tall bottles stacked on the side tables, it could just look like regular friends hanging out not at a party.

“Lance, man, I haven’t seen you in hours,” says a guy who was just passing off to the girl next to him. “Had to sit through Aaron Marco’s speech about human evolution again. I can’t believe you’d allow me to experience that for like the fifth time, dude.”

Lance lets out a small snort, and snakes his arm to Keiths lower back. Keith shudders.

“When’s Iliana gonna finally break up with him by the way?” The girl who is sat on the couch asks.

“Allura-”

“I know, Lance, but he’s so annoying, and she's so cute. What in the world is she still doing with a fuckhead like him?”

“Don’t know, why don’t you ask her yourself?”

“I will-” she gestures for the joint to be passed to her, and takes a long drag. “When I’m sober.”

Keith watches Lance roll his eyes as he slides his and off of Keith and goes to sit on the opposite side of the couch of her. Keith feels awkward standing alone, and notices a few eyes on him, which makes him squirm even more. Lance must have noticed Keith’s unease, as he holds out a hand in his direction, Keith takes it, more comfortably than he had the other times throughout the night, and Lance pulls until Keith is sitting on the couch close beside him, legs falling over Lance's own and his back falling slightly into Lance’s other hand safely. A blush starts to form across his face.

“This is Keith, by the way,” Lance introduces. A chorus of hello’s follows and Keith weakly waves at the group.

“Good job, he is hot, just like you said,” Says the girl he now knows to be named Allura.

Keith feels his mouth drop open a little bit. He’s hot? Lance McClain said that he’s hot, and he honestly is quite surprised by this. Keith gives off a small half smile to keep up his more confident persona, but on the inside he really is wanting to scream because he’s never been told he’s _hot_ before. Sure he had been told he was good looking, and cute, and synonyms like that by his ex boyfriend and that one accidental girlfriend, but never hot. Hot is a word you reserve for someone on a sfitness magazine, not for Keith Kogane. Keith knew that Lance had been flirting, but it didn’t even cross his mind once that Lance was actually genuinely attracted to him. Lance just always flirted with people, and Keith assumed that’s all that was happening tonight, but Lance had called him hot to his friends and that is something Keith has never experienced.

Allura then looks over at the boy who had spoken before, who is smiling at her. “But also fuck you for doing a good job, McClain.”

The boy she addressed lets out a long breath, and reaches his hand out, as if waiting for something. She passes the joint to some other guy sitting in a chair beside the couch, then reaches into her shirt pocket, retrieving a ten dollar bill, and handing it to him.

“I told you that Lance wouldn’t talk about anyone who’s subpar, man.”

“If his last fuck was anything to go off of, that’d be debatable, Hunk. How was I supposed to know he had actually raised his standards since?” The part of the group that'a paying attention to them is filled with snickers at her comment, and Keith buries his face into his hands trying to hide the very obvious blush.

“Guys, shut up,” Lance chuckles, and Keith feels his hand move from behind his back to resting on his side and Keith slightly gasps, but also feels a little better.

The group stops paying attention to the two of them once someone says that the joint’s finished off, so that’s when Keith tries to relax into Lance’s touch. For, you know, acting purposes, he tells himself. As he shifts back to the head of the couch he tips over and has to catch himself by using Lance’s chest to hold himself up. Both of the boys chuckle and then Lance’s lips are on his, and Keith doesn’t even know what the fuck is happening.

They’re both drunk, or at least Keith is, but he’s pretty sure Lance is, or at least he's high, and there's background music that Keith doesn’t recognize and suddenly the sea of people that had been filling Lance’s house had quieted down to seemingly just a few. Keith doesn’t know what he’s doing, kissing Lance when there are other people only three feet away from them and could just watch it happen, and he hates PDA. Always has. Yet that doesn’t stop him from moving his lips against Lance’s, and maybe it’s the alcohol in him, or he’s just caught up in the fact that he’s kissing Lance McClain.

This is weird, he thinks, but no, it’s not. It also feels kind of fucking amazing.

Lance’s tongue hesitantly meets Keith’s lips, and Keith opens his mouth allowing the kiss to deepen. Keith adjusts himself so he could be more comfortable and suddenly he's kind of laying on top of Lance, his hands pressed up against his face, with hands wrapped around his waist and Keith isn’t really sure where this is going. He’s too absorbed in the taste of Lance’s mouth to really- you know, care. Lance’s breath tastes of alcohol and cigarettes and Keith doesn’t know why, but he kind of likes it.

"Upstairs?" Lance murmurs into Keith’s lips, and Keith just nods, breathing a little heavily against Lance’s warm mouth.

This is kind of weird. Keith doesn’t even know how he’s arrived at this point- but drink after drink kind of happened, and now they’re heading upstairs, Lance grinning and Keith’s mind a little hazy and drunken.

It’s hard to care though, not when Lance’s hand is warm and a little sweaty, entwined with his. Not when Lance is pressing kisses against the papery skin of his neck and holding hsis hips from behind as they stumble upwards- he’s pretty fucking drunk, and very horny by the looks of things-

Keith swallows back any apprehension as they reach the top of the stairs, and Lance pulls him along the hall and into his bedroom. Keith only has a couple of moments to take in the sights around him; a couple of posters covering the walls, and a few empty bottles scattered around. An ash-tray sitting idly on the windowsill above a dressed. He only has a couple of seconds, though, because soon enough Lance is pushing him roughly up against the wall by the now closed door and kissing him hard.

His one hand is pressed up against the wall directly beside Keith's head, other still on Keith's hip just as it had been all the way up here, as his tongue darts into Keith’s mouth. This could be going a lot worse, Keith supposes.

Lance’s hand finds its way to Keith's cheek, while the other makes its way across his stomach, pushing up Keith's t-shir ever so slightly so that his fingers can brush around his skin teasingly. Lance's lips untangle from Keith’s and make their way to his neck, and Keith can’t help but let a moan escape from his lips. Lance looks up at him through his dark lashes, smirking.

"I- Lance, fuck," Keith breathes.

Lance just kisses his neck again lightly, scraping his teeth ever so often, earning many short and surprised noises from Keith, then sucking at it as he pulls away. Keith becomes very aware suddenly of how tight his jeans were as Lance lets his hand slowly ease more of Keith’s shirt up his torso and over his head, until he's bare-chested. He’d feel a lot more self-conscious, but the alcohol is still running through his veins, hot on both his and Lance’s breath, and he's hard, and so he doesn’t really care.

Both of his hands stray lower still, until they’re just dancing along the waistband of Keith’s jeans, dipping inside the slightest bit. Keith’s breath catches in the back of his throat.

"This is okay, yeah?" Lance murmurs.

Keith nods, and in a moment of in intoxicated confidence, he runs his hands up and under Lance's shirt, scratching down his warm back, then lifting the shirt over his head, so that they’re both shirtless. Lance grins, bringing his lips towards Keith’s yet again and attaching them, deepening the kiss almost instantly as their tongues meet; whiskey breath, cigarette smoke. Keith thinks they might both be his favourite tastes now, after tasting them on Lance’s lips.

And then Lance’s fingers are working against Keith’s jeans again, working quickly with the fly until they’re coming undone, and being shuffled down his legs as Lance palms him through his boxers, the touch sending shivers down Keith’s spine. He’s hard, now, and more than a little sensitive to Lance’s cool fingertips. They continue to work, teasingly brushing against his clothed dick, his other hand tightly holding his exposed thighs, until eventually he gives into Keith’s breathy moans and pulls them down, wrapping his hand around Keith’s dick, and Keith can’t help but moan out again. The smirk on Lance’s face seems to intensify.

He begins to work against Keith’s cock, stroking up and pumping it as he reattaches his lips to Keith’s neck and begins to kiss and nip just very lightly, sucking at the skin, and Keith doesn’t even care that he’ll probably (most certainly) leave a mark. This is Lance; and when he pulls apart, just momentarily, from Keith’s throat, he re-notices his pale lips and his golden skin, his glittering eyes and the way his hair falls effortlessly. He catches sight of his bare chest and his cock throbs a little, because Lance is so fucking gorgeous, and he’s murmuring the faintest words into Keith’s ear, with his hand still working at Keiths dick.

"Ah-Lance," Keith moans, unable to stop himself. It just feels so fucking good and, fuck.

"You gonna come for me, Keith?" Lance breathes, his own voice sliding into a moan towards the end of the sentence too. His hand is still pumping along Keith’s cock, rubbing his slit, and Keith feels as if his insides are on fire. He feels the familiar feeling curling in the pit of his stomach, and he knows he’s on the brink of orgasm.

A few moments later, Lance’s lips travelling from his lips to his jaw, to his neck and his bare chest, nipping as he manouvers his way. Their moans echo throughout the room and his hand trailing up and down Keith’s cock, and then Keith’s coming into Lance’s hand, his breathing paced and unsteady.

Keith lets out one last shuddery breath, Lance grinning, laced in sweat andthey begin to kiss again, a little sloppier than beforehand, yet somehow even better.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> follow me on tumblr if u wanna be up to date with this and ask questions: dragonaire.tumblr.com  
> 


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yall this chapter is a bit all over the place but oh well pls enjoy
> 
> \-------------
> 
> Heres the playlist for this specific chapter: https://open.spotify.com/user/22zirxjk424obkjxtygy4mamy/playlist/2FVB4S4PISY4EnP68uRiO1?si=taF2AKE4QOOdUo2qYP9q7w
> 
> This is the one for the whole fic: https://open.spotify.com/user/22zirxjk424obkjxtygy4mamy/playlist/1bO5F6s0hQhpYVp00YLqbv

Keith wakes up with a hangover.

He’s definitely glad that he didn’t stay the night at Lance’s, because if he remembers the last time he drank correctly, his body isn’t the kindest on him the day after. He barely remembers that one Christmas from his freshman year where shiro and he did tequila shots; he does, however, have a very distinct memory of last night, and of Lance McClain. More specifically his mouth on his own and his hands all over him and- Oh fuck.

Honestly, Keith hadn’t even the slightest idea that Lance was into guys at all before. But apparently he does, as just last night, he’d given Keith a handjob, which isn’t something a straight guy would do. Keith runs a hand through his hair, anxiously biting down hard on his lip the way he does at times when he’s like this.

What if this just ruins everything? What if Lance wants nothing to do with him now? Keith worries that now that Lance has gotten something out of him, that he’ll want nothing to do with him anymore, which would mean Keith would go back to being chased every day. He doesn’t like that option much at all.

Was this Lance’s plan all along? To get Keith drunk enough to feel comfortable with fucking him? Oh god, Keith thinks, what if they had fucked instead. Oh, God, does this count as a one night stand? Does this make him some kind of slut or something? It was only just a handjob and a blowjob, so does a one night stand cover that? What exactly entails the term one night stand to be used?

Keith doesn’t know. He’s not really that experienced with any kind of romantic or sexual relationship. He had a girlfriend back in grade 8 before he’d realized he was not into girls. Her name was Megan, and Keith remembers her always being super sweet but her lips always were sticky with whatever lipstick she wore. He also distinctly remembers how he always had to resort to begging Shiro and his mom to lie that he was out whenever she called for him after school, which was every day. It was exhausting, and, obviously he had never done anything sexual with her, beyond making out if you count that, since he just wasn’t into her like that. He has had a boyfriend, too, his name was Matt. They met through Pidge being insistant that our Matt was the superior one and the joke accidentally turned into Matt being integrated into their friend group for a short period of tim. That relationship had worked out a little better- they’d dated for seven months, from the middle of 10th grade to the beginning of this school year, and it had all been good. But then Matt had to move to New York for whatever reason his father had gave, and the distance eventually just got in the way. Distance along with Keith’s incessant awkwardness, that is, and so they’d never fucked or anything. It was just a sloppy hand job or blowjob here and there.

And, so yeah- it’s pretty obvious that Lance is a lot more experienced than Keith is when it comes to this sort of thing. Which would make it easy for him to just fuck around without thinking about any consequences. And a lot easier to know the protocol of the aftermath of something like this.

He shakes his head. It’s not even noon, and he’s already over-thinking this.

Keith wants to pull himself up and out of bed, but instead he just sits up and leans back on his wall, grabbing his phone from the charger. 2:14. Okay, he lied, maybe it is noon, but he’s still overthinking this and needs to get his mind off of it for now. So he dicks around on some apps for a while, then receives a snapchat message. Which means he has to open up the app, resulting in seeing himself for the first time all day. The messy hair and large dark circles under his eyes are a normal occurrence in the morning, so he’s not too shaken by those, however, the bruising on his neck is not something he usually sees.

Keith rips the blanket off of him and walks over to the mirror on his desk to get a better look. Fantastic. He does have a hickey patched along his neck, it’s all purple and yellowish around the edges, and pretty big, and though Keith wasn’t exactly against the idea of having Lance’s mouth all over his neck, he doesn’t really want people seeing this.

Not because it’s a signature of sorts from Lance, that’s one rumor that has not circulated about that kid. It’s just simply because he’s Keith Kogane, and it looks too big and too loud against his practically white skin. And he isn’t supposed to be the kid who does that kind of thing and instead spends his Saturdays doing homework, or playing some kind of DS ROM on his laptop, not getting down with his city's resident ‘bad boy.’ That’s just not how Keith is.

He sighs. Maybe scarves can make a comeback in fashion.

———-

Keith supposes he shouldn’t really be surprised when Matt and Pidge turn up at his doorstep later that afternoon. The bulky red scarf is wrapped tightly around his neck, and lays on places across his collar bones that are also a little purple. This visit is not helped by that fact that he’s still a little grumpy from his hangover, despite taking a couple of Ibuprofen and drinking an entire bottle of lemon water.

He insisted to Shiro that he was just cold, and probably coming down with some kind of illness. Despite knowinf that Shiro is okay with him drinking, Keith swears that Shiro thinks he’s 7, not 17 most of the time, and decides to hide the hickeys, because that's a whole different territory from alcohol that he’s not ready to cross into with his brother.

Pidge is grinning as he pulls open the front door.

"Hungover?” they ask, presumably in response to Keith’s scowl.

"A little bit,” he mumbles. "But shut up. Shiro’s home and blissfully unaware at the moment. I'd like to keep it that way until my head isn't pounding, dont need him mocking me like i know y'all will."

Matt nods, but he can’t hide the smirk on his face as he and Pidge step inside.

"Y'all," Pidge repeats, chuckling to themself in a mocking way.

"Shush."

They both follow Keith upstairs. Once they’re in his room, and the door clicks shut behind him, Pidge is already speaking again.

"So what’s up with the fashion nightmare you have wrapped around you?" they ask, zipping open the packpack they brought with them.

"Give him a break, Pidge,” Matt says, rolling his eyes, and Keith gives him a grateful smile.

"Come on, Matt, don’t tell me you don’t wanna know- "

"Well, of course I do, I mean, what guy wears a scarf in April? But you don’t have to be rude about it- "

"That’s what friends are for- "

"Nothing interesting happened," Keith interrupts, though he knows neither of them will believe him.

Pidge raises their eyebrow. "Really, Keith?"

"Yeah, really. Nothing. Pretty boring night, actually- " Keith can feel that his face is red all over.

"So then what’s with the snood? " Matt asks.

"Felt like a change in style."

Pidge rolls their eyes and smirks. "And that change involves you looking ridiculous, Keith."

“Thanks.”

They drop the conversation for a second as Pidge drops themself onto the ground, putting their laptop on Keith's bed infront of them. Matt tosses them some kind of cartridge.

Matt looks back up at Keith with a sly smirk that could rival one of Pidge's.

"Take it off, " Matt says.

"Oh, so you're both ganging up on me now? Real nice, guys,” Keith says, almost whining, but his face is scarlett at this point and he knows that they know why he's wearing it, so there's really no reason to stall. "Asking me to strip for you before it's even dark out. Heathens."

"Don’t flatter yourself," Pidge shrugs, not bothering to even look up at him from their computer screen.

"Actually the sun is setting," Matt adds.

"Just do it, you bitch."

With a reluctant sigh and the knowledge that they’ll never let this go anyway, he admits defeat. He takes a seat at his desk chair behind where he was stood and watches as matt goes to sit on the bed beside Pidge's laptop. Keith locks eyes with Matt, hoping to find an ounce of him saying he didnt need to do this, but to no ones surprise Matt was still looking at him smug about the situation. Keith doesn't even bother to look at Pidge, knowing they would be just as sly about this. Keith sighs once again, then reaches close to his neck to find one of the ends of the warm scarf. He begins to unwind it from his neck, and before it's even completely off Pidge lets out a whistle.

"Didn’t know you had it in you," they say.

Keith glares at them, pulling the scarf far away from where it had been and laying it on his deak, leaving his whole neck in full view.

Matt blinks. "So, how’d you get those, Keith?"

"A dyson went rogue and got attached to his neck, apparently," Pidge laughs, sitting up on their knees. "Who’s the guy then, Keith?"

He scowls.

"Confidential.”

"Keith."

Keith knew they weren't going to be the biggest fans of the answer. Hell, a few days ago, he would have pitied any kid dumb enough to have any sexual intentions, or really any intentions, with Lance McClain. Now here he is, with hickies all over his neck and some other places, put there by that same person. Keith was the dumb kid now, and he didn't entirely mind it.

He sighs "Uh, don't be weird about it," Keith starts, trying to drag this unaware moment on for as long as possible.

"Perhaps."

He looks between Matt and Pidge expectantly, but the siblings just look right back at him, eyebrows raised. Pidge quickly loses interest again and looks back down at their laptop. Keith decides that's as good as he's going to get.

"It was Lance."

"What? " Pidge sputters, choking on their gum and looking back to Keith faster then he's ever seen them move.

"You're joking, right?" Matt asks scooting closer to Keith, looking kind of impressed.

"No."

"How the fuck did that happen?" Pidge asks, their eyebrows high up the sky by this point.

"I don’t even know, if I’m honest," Keith admits. "I’m- I don’t even know if I want to know, okay! "

"So you fucked Lance last night?"

"No! I didn’t fuck him!"

"Did he fuck you-"

"No, Pidge! "

Pidge shrugs. "Just asking. I don't know what you like. You gotta cover all bases, dude."

Keith can still feel the warmth on his cheeks. "I just- we were drunk and talking and Lance is hot and was flirting and he thinks I’m cooler than I actually am and- "

"Calm down," Matt says.

Keith listens and takes a deep breath, removing the hair tie on his wrist and putting the back of his hair up as he settles his nerves a little.

"Wow though. You and Lance."

"It probably means nothing, " Keith says, biting down on his lip.

"I didn’t even know he was into guys," Pidge exclaims, shutting their laptop.

Keith realizes at that motion that Pidge is interested in this, which means the topic will be discussed until it's squeezed out dry and even after.

"Yeah, maybe it was just the alcohol- " Keith starts.

"Nah, I heard that he was bi a little while ago. Tried to fuck some guy from the uni downtown or something."

"That doesn’t change the fact that it probably means nothing, okay, so can we just drop it? "

Matt and Pidge exchange a look. Pidge smirks.

"Whatever you say, you little whore."

"I’m not a whore!" Keith insists hotly.

"Fine," and by their playful tone, Keith already knows that he’s going to hate what Pidge is about to say next before they even say it. "You’re a slut, then."

Keith groans. It’s going to be a long night.

———------

By the time they’re out the door, it’s drawing close to 9pm. Keith has been called a slut more than five times within each hour, and any other derogatory synonyms for that word that Pidge or Matt could think of, he was also called. He really hates his friends at times.

He closes the front door behind him, just as Matt turns around, his eyes gleaming as he grins, shouting, "see you at school, slut!"

Keith sighs. His head still hurts a little bit, and it takes a tremendous amount of effort to carry himself upstairs. His phone is lying discarded on his bed, and it’s flashing blue with the indication that he has one new message. He looks at it curiously- no one texts him besides Matt and Pidge, or Shiro when he’s not home. Keith furrows his brows, fully expecting it to be Pidge with a winky face or something irritating, but it’s not. It’s Lance.

 _hey, i had a good time last night ;)_  
_i was being serious tho, you should hang out with me n  my friends sometime_

Keith looks at it for a few moments, biting his lip, trying to work out if this is a joke.

And then he realizes it’s probably not. After all, Lance thinks he’s bad. And that was a double text, which isn’t something you normally do. Of course he’s a double texter. Why does that make total sense?

His fingers are working against the phone screen on their own accord before he even really realizes what he’s doing.

_i’d like that :)_

He closes his eyes for a second, not really sure what he’s getting himself into. Then he sends it.

\--------

School on Monday is kind of doomed to suck before Keith’s even set foot out of his house. He really tries to play the sick card, but Shiro doesn’t even listen. Which isn’t good.

It’s nearing summer vacation, so it should be warm outside, but of course it’s not because why would anything ever make sense in America, and so it’s a little cold and the sky is an overcast of grey, which doesn’t really help his bad mood. So he listens to loud music for the whole walk to school. He’s trying not to let himself inwardly panic, which of course makes him inwardly panic, and he’s inwardly panicking for many reasons.

One of those reasons is that Eric Kelly will still be out for blood, and another would be that Lance McClain wants to hang out and he thinks that Keith is cool. Then to top it all off he’s forgotten his english homework at home, but he’s actually done it which makes him even more angry.

It also doesn’t help that Pidge hasn’t stopped teasing him about the events of Saturday, Keith thinks they will honestly never stop. Plus he genuinely hates his school anyway, and so this fine Monday morning is really not looking good so far, but then again, when does a Monday morning ever look good?

By the time he has reached the school gates, it genuinely feels as if he’s slowly walking to an impending doom while Death March rings out in his ears, and his heart may very well jump right out of his chest. Even though he is only listening to a Mayday Parade song, the piano makes a very convincing dupe for the Death March in this moment. Though, Anywhere But Here does have quite a lot of death themes throughout it, so it’s not the biggest stretch he supposes.

His head hurts, and he wonders if it’d be considered chickening out to go to the nurse before home room. Probably yes. Also if he leaves Matt in AP history he’ll probably end up taking an axe to his spine.

"Keith," the moment that Keith hears his name he suspects that he recognizes the voice, and, yeah. He does recognize it. Lance McClain is walking towards him with two of his friends either side, and wow, what ever beings watch over Earth, if any, really hate Keith, and Keith hates everything, and he instantly begins to gnaw on his bottom lip. "Hey."

"Oh," Keith smiles weakly. "Hey."

Out of the corner of his eye he can feel Eric Kelly’s hawkish eye studying him, but all too soon Lance comes into view, and Keith relaxes into a smile because Eric Kelly can’t touch him, not while he’s with Lance, and this is fucking awesome.

"You feeling alright?" Lance asks, and he’s grinning, standing maybe a little too close to Keith for the short amount of theime that they've known eachother. But then again, this isn't the closest they've been, Keith remembers. His face grows a little warmer at that thought.

"Yeah, fine," Keith says. "Just- you know."

"Coming down from some sort of high?" Lance asks, and Keith wants to snort because, yeah fucking right, that’s the last thing that’d be wrong with him at 7:30 in the morning on a Monday, but then he remembers it’s Lance, and he tells himself to channel what he overhears guys in the changing room talking about.

"Yeah," he says just to go with it, because there's no way Keith could have come up with that excuse. "Uh, monging a little."

Lance laughs. "No wonder you look a little lost," he rests his hand lightly on Keith’s arm, head tilted and still smiling in that way that sort of makes Keith’s stomach melt, or something like that.

"Are you? " Keith asks, wondering if he’s making the right kind of conversation and using the correct terminology, but Lance seems to like him anyway so maybe he’s all good.

"Nah," Lance shakes his head, beginning to trace circles into Keiths bicep just as he had on his legs at the party. "Didn’t have any last night and we were all too hungover to bother getting any. Usually aren’t this early, might be tonight, though."

"Yeah?" says Keith.

"Yeah. Hey, you could come with us, if you wanted?"

“Come with you? To get, like, high?" Keith’s eyes are wide and his heart is racing and Lance’s hand is still on his upper arm. So he may or may not be freaking the fuck out over this, because this is kind of more than just a party with coolers and cigarettes, this is drugs and that’s really fucking illegal in his state, and being around them is one thing, but he’ll be expected to actually do them. Keith doesn’t know how to do drugs. He doesn’t want to do drugs, he never has. Keith doesn't even know what drugs it would be, anything from just weed to meth, and god he isnt sure he like anything in that range. But he also doesn’t want to just give up whatever he had thought he lost with Lance after the whole handjob situation, so he plays into it.

Lance chuckles and raises his eyebrow teasingly. "Yeah."

"Oh. I- sure," he’s blurting out before he even really has time to process what’s going on. "I’ll come with you."

Lance grins. "Cool. Catch up with us at lunch?"

"Uh, maybe."

"It’d be cool if you did. I mean- I’m not gonna lie Keith, I think I really like you, you know? You’re really fucking cute."

"I- thanks."

"I hope I’m not making you feel awkward?" Is Lance nervous? Lance McClain might be nervous, and Keith is going to fling himself off of a bridge. Fuck.

"No, no, " Keith says quickly. "You’re not, Lance, I- I think I really like you too, you know? " and now he’s blushing, and his face is lit up like a fire engine. Keith really hates his life sometimes. "I'm just bad at speaking."

"Well, that’s good," says Lance with a small laugh. He shoots Keith a quick wink, and in that moment he mentally _does_ throw himself off of that bridge. "I’ll see you later. "

"I- yeah, " mutters Keith.

Lance seems to consider for a moment, and then he leans in and quickly kisses Keith on the cheek, giving him a quick smirk before he moves his hand from Keith's arm and then slopes off to catch up with his friends, and Keith is still having an internal melt down, because apparently his brain refuses to grasp the current situation.

But, basically: whatever happens in the next 24 hours are not going to be good, and Keith is about to be late for homeroom, and he’s still forgotten his english homework.

——–

Keith has been shooting nervous glances towards Matt and Pidge throughout the entirety of their English lesson, and so neither are really that surprised when Keith halts them as they try to leave the classroom and go to lunch. Pidge rolls their eyes dramatically, and simply crosses the room before falling back onto a now empty table and lying on his back. Matt looks slightly concerned but as the rest of their class file out, their teacher looks back and sighs.

"Don’t leave the room in a mess, " he says, and then he glances at Pidge. "And, Katie, get off of the table."

Pidge gives him a thumbs up and a groan, but doesn’t move. “Pidge,” They correct, and then the teacher mutters a measly ‘sorry’ then exits the room along with everyone else.

"What’s wrong with you?” Matt asks, uncertainly.

"I’m at suicide risk," Keith replies.

Pidge raises their eyebrows. Keith realizes he should explain before they call a nurse.

"Not actually, oh gosh, Lance invited me to get high with him and his friends- "

"Get high?"

"Get high, yeah, as in smoke weed, get stoned, smoke the devil’s lettuce. Which synonym would you prefer I call it?”

“Wow, tense much?” Pidge asks, still looking worried.

“I'm not actually suicidal, I'm just at such a loss for what the fuck I'm supposed to do.”

“Uh," Matt shrugs. "Not do it? "

Pidge says, "do it." Matt glares at them. Pidge shoots him a wonky smile and finger guns.

"Tell him you’re not into drugs," Matt suggests.

"But he already thinks that I am."

"….Say your grandma died? "

"Matt!”

"Grandma excuses are always a recipe for disaster, " Pidge says, solemnly. “Especially when it’s Keith’s family, or lack thereof, you absolute dipshit.”

“We don't know that Lance knows how Keith's whole family is, like, MIA. It may work!”

Both Keith and Pidge sigh, Keith bites his bottom lip.

Pidge rolls their eyes at their brother. "Yeah, I dunno, Keith, why not just tell him that the grandparents you’ve never once known randomly died?”

Matt gives Pidge a look that tells them to shut-up. “But really, why don’t you just tell him you don't like drugs?”

"Like I just said, he thinks that I do! I’m supposed to be bad remember?"

"You could be a straight-edge bad guy? " suggests Matt.

"Because that’ll work after I got smashed with him, " Keith groans.

Pidge snickers. "Ah, yes. Not to mention everything else that he smashed- "

"Stop. "

Pidge laughs.

"Keith, if you don’t want to do it then don’t do it."

"But Matt," Keith wails. "He’ll realize I’m lying! And the entire point of this will be defeated! And he won’t like me anymore."

"Since when do you care about Lance liking you, though?" Matt questions. "I thought it was all about having a low-key bodyguard?"

Keith feels his cheeks heat up a little. "It was never like that, Matt.” It totally was. “Lance is- he’s nice, okay? He’s not what everyone makes him out to be."

"You don’t, like, have a crush on him, do you Keith?"

"I- "

"Oh God, you do, don’t you?"

"No, I'm just pointing out that if he finds out I lied to him he'll fucking murder me before Eric and them even get to look at me, and this whole thing will have just made my life worse off instead."

"I think he does like him," Matt agrees

"Maybe I do! Why does it matter?"

Pidge laughs. "You’re fucked."

"I know," Keith groans. "That’s not the point- "

"It’s completely the point. So! Will getting high with this dude increase or decrease your chances of fucking him?"

By this time, Keith’s face strongly resembles a fire engine. "Shut up, Pidge. "

Matt is shaking his head.

"increase probably," Keith caves.

"Well then we know what you're doing," Pidge says hopping off of the desk.

Matt looks confused and concerned. " _What_ are you going to do?"

Keith miserably slumps onto one of the desks. "I have no idea. "

——------

By the time that his last class of the day is over, Keith is lurking out by the lockers, his eyes scanning the hall in attempt to scope out Lance.

He’s decided that he’s going to do it. After all, it’s only once, and it’s Lance, and yeah. It’s not going to make him a bad person because- well, Lance isn’t a bad person, is he?

"Keith!"

He turns around to see Lance standing there, looking a little bit awkward but grinning. "You’re coming, right?"

"I- yeah."

"Cool," he smiles again, which may or may not unleash butterflies into Keith’s stomach which isn’t helpful as he’s already wracked with nerves. "Wanna go now, then?"

Keith nods, following Lance out through the crowd with his school bag swung over his shoulder, and a lump in his throat.

It’s a little easier once they’re out in the open, Lance lazily walking down the pavement dragging his blue sweater in his hands, with Keith closely at his side because he can actually breathe and he can hear himself think a bit easier when his ears are filled with the noise of revving engines rather than the incessant chatter of teenagers, and he takes a deep breath.

"I’m really glad you’re coming, to be honest," Lance says, grinning again. He’s always smiling around Keith. It’s sort of- it’s nice. Keith hasn’t seen Lance smile this much ever before. "Like I said, you seem really cool and- yeah. "

"I’m glad I’m coming too," Keith squeaks. He clears his voice. "I- um, needed this. Thanks."

"You’re so shy," says Lance, teasingly, bumping Keith’s shoulder with his own. "You don’t need to be, okay? We’re friends, yeah?"

"Really?"

"Of course we are," he laughs. "Unless you don’t wanna be, but yeah."

"N-No!" says Keith, quickly. "I mean- of course I wanna be friends with you, I- "

"Chill, it’s fine," says Lance, with a soft smile on his lips. "I mean, we’ve had some pretty intimate encounters? " Keith immediately goes pink, knowing exactly what Lance’s talking about and just like he had been doing all day yesterday he really, really tries not to recall that one encounter they shared where Lance had his hand on Keith’s cock because Lance is right next to him. "That’s solid friendship. "

"Yeah," Keith nods. "True friendship right there. "

"You’re blushing, " Lance notes. "That’s cute."

If anything, that makes him blush more. "Nope."

"Yeah," Lance says, looking at Keith. His bright eyes are shining a little, a grin still stretched over his face. "You’re cute."

 

"I don’t want to be cute," Keith says, biting his lip. He begins to play with the ends of his sleeves.

"Fine," Lance says. He’s smirking now. "Would you rather I called you hot instead? Or how about sexy? Cause, you know, you’re that, too."

"I-"

"Don’t deny it," Lance says, and their hands brush, and Keith is going to jump off of the nearest bridge because it most definitely was intentional on Lance’s part. He is so bad at those things.

"Let’s- um, agree to disagree?" Keith mutters. God- why does he speak? Now he probably sounds like a whiny five year old. Or some kind of insecure little girl or something and-

"Keith," Lance says. He stops abruptly, turning to face Keith who’s also stopped, and he brings his hand to cup Keith’s chin really, really lightly. Keith can feel his warm breath ghosting across his cheeks, and he’s really embarrassed because they’re in public, with cars passing them on the street and his heart stops. "If I didn’t think you were cute, or hot, or sexy, I wouldn’t have gotten you off on Saturday, okay? "

Keith gulps. "Alright. "

Lance lets out the smallest, faintest laugh, his breath hot against Keith’s skin again. "See, like I said, you’re cute," he murmurs, and then he presses another chaste kiss against Keith’s crimson-coloured cheek.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> follow me on tumblr if u wanna be up to date with this and ask questions: dragonaire.tumblr.com


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yall this is wild im actually updating. its been well over a month and??? i'm in university now what the FUCK but anyway updates are going to be as frequent as they can be again now that i'm in the groove of my lectures
> 
> \-----------------
> 
> Heres the playlist for this specific chapter: https://open.spotify.com/user/22zirxjk424obkjxtygy4mamy/playlist/6NVHEidb78z91a5czplLrp?si=mYbfNq0rQN2zJLvcmp6W7A
> 
> This is the one for the whole fic: https://open.spotify.com/user/22zirxjk424obkjxtygy4mamy/playlist/1bO5F6s0hQhpYVp00YLqbv

Keith doesn’t think he’s ever been more terrified in his life; keeping up light small-talk with Lance while his hands are sweating and he’s seconds away from climbing down into a drain pipe and hiding there forever is proving to be more difficult than he’d anticipated.

Also- okay, he feels like a pre-teen with his first crush because every time his hand brushes against Lance’s, he can’t help but get a pang of nervousness and feel his heart rate increase just a little bit, which is just not helping the situation and he hates himself for feeling that way.

Then Lance stops, pausing, and Keith quickly falls into a halt in the middle of the sidewalk as Lance pulls his phone out of his pocket, lazily pushing down to accept an incoming call as it vibrates.

“Hey man,” he says. Keith just stands awkwardly by his side, not really sure what to do. Lance grins at him, half-turning around and leaning against the wall. Keith doesn’t want to look like some little kid, incapable of thinking for himself and so he just- you know, stands still biting the hem of his sleeve, agitated. "Yeah, yeah, I know," Lance continues snickering. “Oh?” He raises his eyebrows. "Right, okay. We’ll meet you at the bandstand then. In like, an hour," he pauses, and chuckles. "I told you. Keith."

Keith looks up at the sound of his name, smiling and blushing. Lance winks at him.

"Yeah, alright. See you in a little bit then."

And then he hangs up, letting out a sigh and rubbing his neck. "Allura is having trouble getting the weed," he explains. "So I said that we’d meet her in about an hour. D’you need to do anything while we’re in town?"

Keith shakes his head. "Uh, no. I don’t think so."

"Keith," Lance says, a smirk on his face. "What did I just say? You really don’t have to be so nervous around me." He smiles. “I genuinely like being around you, you don’t have to worry that I’m gonna hurt you or anything.”

Keith swallows. "Okay." And yeah, Keith feels kind of silly for being so nervous about Lance. He knows Lance would probably not hurt him, but fuck, that’s definitely not all that Keith is worried about regarding Lance.

"No point going anywhere yet though," Lance says. "D'you wanna just- I don't know, head somewhere we can just go and sit, if you want? Have a smoke?"

"Sure," Keith nods. Lance grins, and he reaches out to clasp Keith’s hand, and Keith is gone. No one is home in his brain right now, and anxiety is cancelled because his hand feels so warm. Lance lightly pulls Keith down the street, and they quickly weave in and out of traffic as they cross the roads. A couple of cars honk at them, Lance just sends them a grin or whenever the driver shouts any abuse, he sends a wave their way, coy smile perfectly on his lips, and Keith is a little bit in awe.

Lance is a million worlds away from anyone Keith has ever known, and there is something almost addictive about his recklessness and carefree attitude.

They walk for about five minutes until they’re somewhere pretty secluded in town, and Lance lets go of Keith’s hand to flop onto a wooden bench. The sky is overcast and grey, and as Keith sits down to join him he realizes that the area they’re in is shadowed by buildings, and there is no one really around.

He’s glad about that. Even if Lance doesn’t notice the red that will inevitably cover Keith’s cheeks- which he will, anyway- surely someone else would, and the many residents of their town seem to have some sort of complex that doesn’t allow them to hold their tongues, and so some interesting comments would definitely fly, and that’d be embarrassing.

Keith doesn’t want to assume things, nor does he want to get his hopes up- but the winks, the not-so-subtle flirting, and everything else- he wonders if maybe Lance does like him. Likes him in terms of a relationship prospect, and not just as a friend or a quick fuck.

That’d be nice, Keith thinks. Really nice.

"Sorry," Lance says, grinning. "I like it here. It’s more private, you know?"

"Yeah, I get it," Keith says. He can’t help but return Lance’s smile nervously. There’s something contagious about the way the edges of his mouth curve upwards. Lance is- well, gorgeous. And he fucking knows it. "I like it here, too."

Lance sighs, swinging his legs up so that his body is a little curled, pressed up close to Keith. "Also," he says. "I’m not too bothered about the weed delay."

"Really?" Keith says, surprised. He clears his throat. "I mean- it sounds as if you haven’t smoked it for a long time. I- I don’t know, I thought you’d be pissed."

"I would be," Lance says. "Usually. I could really use a high right now, but- it’s only an hour. And it means I get to spend more time with just- you."

Keith’s breath hitches in his throat, his heart constricting in the best way possible and his stomach doing back flips. Fuck. "Gross, that's gay," he manages to say. “Wait- Shit, sorry I don't know if you're ok with that kind of humor I-” He’s sure that his cheeks are on fire by now, and his voice is a little higher than he’d like it to be- but considering the laughter coming from Lance, he thinks he’s doing fairly alright. "But also, when you put it that way- I’m pretty okay with the weed delay, too."

Lance’s smile widens, if possible, and his head inches slightly closer to Keith’s. "Yeah?" he says, his voice low, and breathy, and slightly sexy, and his face is close enough to Keith’s face for his breath to ghost against his cheek. "I’m glad to hear that."

"Lance-"

But Keith never gets to finish his sentence, because Lance leans only the slightest bit forwards, and captures Keith’s lips in a kiss.

It’s not the way Keith remembers. Lance’s lips are soft, and his kiss is gentle, not deep. It’s just a small kiss, their lips pressed up together, and Keith can feel Lance’s smile against his. He pulls back after a few seconds.

"Sorry," says Lance. "I just- I really wanted to kiss you, you know?"

"I wanted you to kiss me," Keith says. He smiles. "Don’t apologize."

Lance grins again. "I know we met like- a few days ago," he says. "So maybe this whole thing is a little fast-paced. But Keith, fuck I like you. Like I have such a crush on you it would be embarrassing if it was anyone else. You’re sweet, and you’re hot, and you’re honest, and I just- fuck it. Can I kiss you again?"

Keith nods, dazed, and Lance’s lips press against his yet again. His hand moves up to cup Keith’s chin softly, and the kiss is still gentle, not hungry and desperate like it was on Saturday night. It’s different, but it’s a nice different, and it’s Lance.

He pulls away again, a few seconds later, obviously not wanting to rush into anything and Keith thinks that maybe Lance isn’t just looking for a quick fuck- and the thought makes him grin.

Lance grins too, seeing Keith’s expression. "Fuck. You’re so cute," he murmurs. He reaches into his pocket. "Want a smoke?"

Keith just nods, too dazed, and too lost in Lance.

"You alright?

"Hm? Oh, y-yeah I'm fine," Keith replies. "Just thinking, I guess."

"What about?"

"Well I- I wasn't sure if you'd talk to me again, if im honest," Keith says, watching Lance pull out cigarettes from his jean jacket pocket.

Lance looks at Keith and seems completely appauled by that thought.

"What the fuck, why?"

Keith is taken aback by the urgency in his voice

"I don't know, I-" Keith doesn't know how to respond, what if Lance gets offended that Keith assumed he'd fuck him and leave? "Uh, Anxiety I guess."

"God no, I haven't stopped thinking about you since Saturday, Keith"

Keith smiles, and Lance places another quick kiss on his lips.

——–

It’s a lazy hour that passes way too fast, just the two of them hidden in the shadows, barely acknowledging the footsteps that occasionally pass them by; kissing and smoking and talking quietly, and Keith is curled into Lance slightly, thinking about how different he can be, sometimes, when he’s not around people.

"Right, we should probably go now," says Lance, glancing at his phone screen. He presses a quick kiss to Keith’s lips, with a smile. "C'mon. I need this."

"Oh," Keith says. Fuck. He’d almost forgotten about the weed issue. "Yeah, me too. Let’s go."

His heart rate is out of control though, and not just because of Lance, and the nerves have returned to his chest, and it’s all a bit overwhelming.

In an instant, Keith realizes that he can’t do this. There is no way in fucking hell.

He can’t do this.

He is so fucked.

The two of them begin to walk back towards the downtown through back alleyways, and Lance is frantically typing out a text- presumably to one of his friends; which greatly inspires Keith. Friends- they can come in handy, sometimes.

Quickly, he pulls his phone out of his pocket, and he sends out the quickest texts ever to Pidge.

 _pidGE_  
_PIDge_  
_fuck_  
_pidge call me and play along_

He waits anxiously for Pidge’s reply, and thank God, it doesn’t take long.

_lol ok ??_

His phone begins to ring almost immediately, and Keith pretends to jump. Lance looks at him, his eyebrow raised.

"Hang on a sec," he says. Re-enacting Lance’s earlier movements, Keith casually leans up against the wall of the alley way they’re in, resting one of his feet against the wall with his knee bent, and he begins to talk. "Liam? That you?" he pretends to listen. "Really? Shit. Okay. Uh- hell, give me 20 minutes and I’ll be there," he sighs, heavily. "Fuck. Yeah, alright. See you in a bit."

He hangs up, and looks at Lance with a fake-guilty expression on his face. "I’ve got to go," he says, biting his lip. "My friend’s had an emergency. Like seriously. He needs me to help him out, you know? I’d explain more but- I’ve gotta go. Fuck. I’m so sorry."

Lance looks surprised. "What? Keith, calm down, it’s alright," he smiles. "Seriously. You go and do what you have to do, figure whatever it is out, and I’ll text you in a bit."

"Have a couple poppers in my honour, okay?" Keith says, and he’s grinning, allowing himself to fall into the character. "I’ll see you later."

"Yeah," Lance says. "Later."

He leans down a little, capturing Keith’s lips in a quick kiss, and then Keith gives him one last small smile before he slowly turns back, walking around the corner they’d just passed before he’s back into the desolate area they’d previously been sat in-

And he books it.

 

\--------------

 

Pidge calls him back about twenty minutes later.

"What the fuck was that about?" they ask, confusion clear in their voice.

Keith’s still a little out of breath from running. "Cold feet," he murmurs.

"Huh?"

Keith sighs. "I backed out kid, I couldn’t do it."

"Do what?"

"You know."

"What, get stoned?"

"Yeah."

Pidge laughs. "Well, obviously."

"What’s that supposed to mean?" Keith huffs.

"It means that Matt and I knew you were going to back out. Despite what your edge lord exterior may leave assumed, you’re way too much of a goodie-two-shoes to get involved in all that-"

"That’s- I’m not!" Keith grits his teeth, a little irritated with the tone in Pidge’s voice.

"Boy, it’s not a bad thing-"

"I’m not a goodie-two-shoes what the fuck," Keith mutters. “Who even uses that term other than bullies on T.V. shows?”

"Fine, fine," Pidge muses. "Whatever floats your boat, dude.” Pidge sighs. “So what does this mean for you and McClain?"

Keith’s breath catches in his throat. "What?"

"Has he figured out the entire basis of your relationship is a lie yet?"

"No- and it’s not a lie-"

"Sure sounds like a lie," Pidge interrupts. "It’s none of my business, though."

"You’re right, it isn’t," Keith snaps. For someone who is supposed to be his best friend, Pidge is kind of pushing a line here. Keith doesn’t get angry or annoyed all too often (actually that's a bit of a lie), but this is the kind of thing that sets him off.

And besides, it isn’t a lie. He doesn’t know what exactly it is but- But it isn’t a lie, and Keith feels a sort of twist in his gut at the thought of that. It’s not a lie.

"Woah, okay, calm down-"

"I’m just saying."

Pidge sighs. "Look, whatever, Keith. You do what you want, okay?” Pidge sounds exasperated, and takes a short pause in their speech, most likely to think. “But, just a friendly reminder that Lance McClain is the entire embodiment of trouble. He is every stereotype of it. And you’re my friend, my best friend, and I don’t want you getting into something this big and fucked up in the most important semester for early acceptance next year, because you and I both know if you fuck up scholarships you'll be devastated. Like, Keith, I don’t know, I’m actually worried.”

Keith would be lying if he said that didn’t make him feel bad. But he tries anyway.

“I also don’t want you shooting anyone or getting fucking merked or-"

Keith balls his fists together, closing his eyes for half a second. "What the fuck!?"

"It’s just an example," Pidge covers quickly. "But McClain and them- they get into that kind of trouble, you know? And you’re already in out of your depth. I don’t want them to fuck everything up for you."

“You don’t know that they’ll do that,” Keith argues.

“Maybe they won’t directly, But I know you, and you’ll get caught up in this and _let them_ fuck everything up-”

“No I won’t! Stop acting like you know the inner workings of my fucking mind, Pidge.”

Keith is fuming. He’s stopped walking completely and knows he has people staring at him right now, but fuck if he cares about that. Pidge is being immature about his choices, and honestly he just wants to punch the wall behind him.

“I’m not saying I do!” Pidge takes a deep breath. “Keith,” they sound calmer now, and Keith’s not gonna lie; they’re scarier this way. “What I’m trying to say is that you’ve never gone through anything like this. You have no fucking idea how you're going to handle it all- how you're going to handle Lance.”

"You don’t even know how Lance actually is."

Pidge scoffs. "Buddy, neither do you."

Keith pushes the end call button.

——-----–

This is stupid, Keith thinks. This is pathetic and immature and downright ridiculous and it’s all his fault.

It’s Wednesday now. He didn’t talk to Pidge for the rest of yesterday and so by default, he didn't talk to Matt either, and now they’re across the parking lot standing at Matt’s car, talking to some guy from their math class and Keith is standing by himself.

It’s his fault, because on Monday he was in a pissy mood and he was being stupid, and pathetic, immature and downright ridiculous. He contemplates going over to sort things out because getting into arguments with his friends about boys is way too American chick flick for Keith; he won’t do it though, he's too stubborn for his own good.

"Alright?"

Keith jumps at the sound of a voice and when he turns around, Lance is grinning at him.

"Shit!" Keith squeaks. "Yeah- I- wow."

"God, you freak out over the smallest of things," Lance says, amused, and he presses a quick kiss to Keith’s lips in greeting. “I’m beginning to think you don’t know any other emotions, sweetheart.”

Keith isn’t sure what they are exactly. They haven’t really known each other long- not long at all, in fact, and neither of them have said or asked anything. But Lance seems to like kissing Keith, and Keith- well, it’s no secret that he’s gay, especially for Lance, so he has nothing to hide, and in any case he is hardly going to say no to someone as gorgeous as Lance McClain. That’d be embarrassing on his part.

"I know," Keith says, and he smiles at Lance. His cheeks are a little crimson. "Sorry."

"Stop apologizing for everything," Lance says, nudging him. "I was just seeing if you were okay. You looked a million miles away."

"I guess I was," Keith shrugs.

Lance slings his arm around Keith’s shoulders. "Let’s go in," he mutters, pressing another chaste kiss against his cheek. "It’s probably gonna rain."

——------

It’s Friday night, and Keith is finishing off the last few mouthfuls of his dinner before he goes to meet Lance and his friends.

He hasn’t had much of a chance to meet them properly yet, though he knows a few of them; Allura and Hunk, and in all honesty he’s kind of scared shitless. They’re- well, they’re like Lance. But Lance has this side of him that is lovely and sweet, and in any case he likes Keith, and he can’t say the same for any of the others.

He still hasn’t talked to either Pidge or Matt since the phone call on Monday. Is Keith aware that he was being a total fucking idiot and completely irrational? Yes. Is he going to do anything about it? Probably not. He’s too scared that Pidge will be petty, like they always are, and never let him live down the blow up. So he’s just going to sulk about it until something good falls into place, like he does with anything regarding his emotions.

"I'm going out," Keith says, standing up and pulling his hoodie over his head.

Shiro nods. "Try to be back before twelve."

Keith shoots him a thumbs up as he turns around and makes his way towards the front door, sighing when he’s out of sight.

——-------

Lance is down the street and round a corner, leaning up against a wall with a cigarette in his mouth, and Keith grins.

"Hey," he says.

Lance takes the cigarette out of his mouth, allowing it to roll idly between two of his fingers and he greets Keith with a big smile followed by a kiss.

"Hey," he says. "Want a drag?"

Keith nods automatically, and Lance carefully hands the cigarette off to him as they begin to walk.

——------

"This is Keith," Lance says, a grin on his face as he gestures towards Keith who may or may not be inwardly hyperventilating at this very moment.

He introduces him to his friends. Allura, Coran, Nyma, Shay and Hunk.

Nyma has been shooting Keith death glares since the moment he approached them, and he’s not really sure why so he just avoids her gaze and looks at the floor, trying not to allow his cheeks to heat up too much. Fucking hell. He feels like she somehow knows he’s- well like he said to Pidge, not lying, but- not telling the whole truth.

For the most part, they’re all pretty nice and they seem to kind of like him- aside from Nyma, but that’s something Keith can deal with- and they’re friendly enough. They ask him a few questions and Keith answers them with the best of his ability, trying to fix himself into his character.

He is not Keith Kogane, goodie-two-shoes, he is Keith, and he’s Lance’s… something or other, and he is cool and rebellious and absolutely nothing fazes him.

"I’m bored as fuck," Lance mutters, rolling his eyes. He’s sat on the ground with his knees up and he’s leaning against the wall.

Lance and his friends have brought him to some old bus shelter that’ll protect them from any sudden downpour, though the sky is pretty much clear as of now with the nearly-summer sun lurking behind the clouds. According to Lance, it’s usually better than this, but they can’t go to Allura’s house today and Hunk’s car has broke down and so they’re stuck in the denser, less populated parts of the city, doing fuck-all.

"Me too," Shay sighs.

"Anyone got anything? Could really use a joint right now," Lance says. Keith’s stomach does eight backflips and thirteen frontflips. Fuck.

"Nah, mate," Coran sighs. "Smoked the last of it last night."

"Fuck," says Lance. He looks at Keith apologetically. "Sorry. Usually we have more fun than this-"

And then Hunk snaps his fingers together in a quick flick movement. "I’ve got it!"

"What?"

"I’d almost forgotten but I’ve still got a whole lot of spray paint back home."

"Great," Nyma rolls her eyes. Keith gets the general impression that Nyma doesn’t like much.

"No," Lance says. "It is."

Nyma’s expression darkens.

"We could tag Marty’s house," Shay says.

"Marty?" Keith murmurs, biting on his lip and tugging at Lance’s sleeve.

"This fucker who ripped off Shay and Allura for a gram," he says. "He does have it coming to him-"

"Bad idea," Allura says. "He’d never sell to us again."

Keith gets the general idea that Allura is the voice of reason among the group.

Lance sighs. "You’re right."

“I’m not often wrong.”

"The school?"

"We’d never get away with it. Remember last time?"

They all look generally down about this. Keith realizes that this group of friends are one that want to be up and doing things as often as possible. Nothing like Matt, Pidge and him, who usually just sit in Pidge’s room playing mario cart all day.

Keith coughs. "I- I think I might know somewhere that could work."

——-

When Keith was a kid, his Dad worked in this office above some workshop right across town. He was the department manager of some division or something, Keith isn’t really sure on the details about much his parents did, not anymore anyways, he does his best to not remember them much for his own sake. But the business went bankrupt a few years ago, and now it’s empty. Ivy coils run up the damp walls, the paint inside is peeling, and the windows are all boarded up. The whole nine yards of an abandoned building.

Either way, his Dad lost his job and the place is still empty, and now Keith is leading Lance and his friends down the alley to the back of the building. They’ve already stopped by Hunk’s house and Keith really isn’t sure about this, but what the hell, he’s acting.

"Fuck, Keith, this is great," Lance grins, sliding his arm around his waist and resting his head on Keith’s shoulder.

Nyma has a defeated look on her face, and smiles. "Yeah, it’s cool."

"For a quiet guy, you’re alright."

"Alright?" Lance says. "Keith is fucking awesome."

Keith blushes. "I, um, thanks."

Lance presses a quick kiss to Keith’s cheek and then they’re all moving surrounding Hunk, taking cans and shaking them before aiming them towards the bleak white walls.

There’s an explosion of colour, and it’s obvious that none of them are new to this. They’re grinning and laughing as words take place and sometimes the colour drips down the walls, leaking rainbows on top of each other and morphing it all.

Keith remembers the conversations between his parents as they used to talk about how disgusting graffiti was, how it’s all just mindless vandalism.

Keith thinks it can be really beautiful.

"Come on Keith," Lance laughs. "Here!"

He chucks a red can in Keith’s direction, and Keith catches it, a smile forming on his face as he steps forward and adds to their creation.

He feels alive. It’s weird.

\-------------------

Keith is sat in the back seat of Hunk’s car, squished in between Lance and Allura, and he’s gripping hold of a cigarette.

It’s weird; he’s never really been interested in smoking or anything but Lance offers and he says yes, and he supposes he doesn’t really want to say no, not to Lance. It’s late- around 11pm, and Keith should probably be home but he’s texted Shiro to say he’ll be out late and switched it off.

He doesn’t want to go home yet. He feels good, and it’s not always often that he feels so alive and careless and free and so he’s going to savour these moments, these last few hours, without the incessant ringing of his phone and Shiro’s static voice yelling at him to come home.

The car stops every now and again so that Shay can climb on top of Hunk and make out with him for a few moments and normally, Keith would probably feel a little awkward but every time this happens Lance just sends him a grin and pulls him closer to kiss him, and though Keith’s never been one for PDA, he doesn’t really care. Lance’s lips are sort of addictive, as sad as it sounds, and so he doesn’t care when Allura begins to loudly complain. He’s not going to stop kissing Lance, not right now.

It’s dark, the city is illuminating the streets and Hunk is driving too fast. And Keith is loving it, he loves every second of it, and he loves it even more when Lance’s hand snakes over his thigh and he shivers.

He doesn’t go home that night. He goes back to Lance’s, and he doesn’t care about the trouble he’ll be in tomorrow morning. He’s willing to take the fall.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> follow me on tumblr if u wanna be up to date with this and ask questions: dragonaire.tumblr.com  
> 


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> my friends got me to actually write and update so yall should thank them
> 
> \--------------
> 
> Heres the playlist for this specific chapter: https://open.spotify.com/user/22zirxjk424obkjxtygy4mamy/playlist/0reOwIP4sKDwLrjlt6TDi0?si=oQDMKBJ4QGqFp0rQ9bJKIA
> 
> This is the one for the whole fic: https://open.spotify.com/user/22zirxjk424obkjxtygy4mamy/playlist/1bO5F6s0hQhpYVp00YLqbv

Keith goes home in the early hours of Saturday morning, a little after eight.

"I’ve gotta go," he whispers, gently shaking Lance’s shoulder. Lance half opens his eyes and stares up at Keith, and it’s obvious that his vision is bleary.

"What?" Lance mumbles.

"I’ve gotta be somewhere," Keith shrugs, he bites his lip. "I’m sorry."

"No, it’s okay," says Lance. He sits up, rubbing his neck. "You coming out later?"

Keith hums in response. “Probably.” 

“Good.”

"I’ll text you?"

"Yeah," Lance smiles. "Do it."

He leans forward then, snaking his arms around Keith’s neck and pulling him in for a deep kiss, his tongue tasting distinctly of smoke. Keith melts into the touch, but all he can think about is the night before, and his mouth around Lance’s cock and falling asleep against Lance’s bare chest, the room thick with smoke.

He can’t help but blush. Lance pulls away, eventually, and Keith sends him a grin after giving him one final quick peck on the cheek.

The walk home is okay, quiet except for the early birds chirping from their places on the above head wires; though Keith has one headphone in his ear, so he can’t really tell exactly how loud or quiet it is. He’s playing good music from one of his favourite bands- tomorrows tulips- and he’s just left from Lance’s so he should be pretty damn calm, but his heart is beating pretty damn quickly. Because he’s getting out of role. He’s turning back into Keith Kogane, the little nerdy kid with a good conscience and he is wondering what the hell he was thinking doing all that stuff last night. Having a cigarette? Really? What the fuck was Keith thinking? He is going to be in so much trouble. God, he’s probably going to get so much shit from Shiro.

He does.

When he reaches his house, Keith takes a deep breath and opens the door just a creak but Shiro apparently heard the click of the key turning and so he’s in the hall in seconds, screaming bloody murder.

"Keith where have you been? I have been so worried! Where’s your phone? How dare you-"

Keith murmurs apologies and squeaks that he is very sorry and it won’t happen again, all while clutching his arm for some sort of support.

"I was at Matt and Pidge’s, Shiro," he says meekly. "I fell asleep."

Shiro is still breathing heavily. "This isn’t like you," he says, finally. "But- I’ll let you off, this time. As it’s pretty much only the one time you’ve ever broken a rule, and you’re clearly safe, and we’re somewhere you can handle.” 

“But I don’t want this to happen again. Are we clear?"

"Yeah," Keith says. "It won’t happen again, I promise."

“I was so scared Keith, fuck. You know the last time I went this long without seeing you was when mom and dad-”

“Yeah.” And fuck Keith feels guilty. 

He feels so damn guilty because it hadn’t even crossed his mind that Shiro may think he was fucking dead in a ditch. Or that him ignoring texts and calls made Shiro think of their parents. He feels even more guilty though because he feels like he definitely just lied to Shiro. It probably will happen again, because Lance has him wrapped around his little finger and Keith is finding slipping into role far too easy.

—–

At 3:12, Keith approaches Shiro again.

"Hey," he says, his voice light and all goodie and 100% Keith. "Can I go over to Pidge and Matt’s house for a few hours? We’re partners for this Physics project and-"

He nods, absently. "I want you home by eight."

Keith bites his lip at the time, but doesn’t want to push it after his stunt this morning. "Cool, thanks!"

He’s not going to Pidge and Matt’s of course; they’ve barely spoken in the past few weeks and Keith resolves to change that, honestly. He’s going to text Pidge later and get this stupid argument over with, but right now he’s a little preoccupied with a cute boy.

He’s out of the door in minutes. He knew Shiro would say yes, and by this time he knows the way to Hunk’s house off by heart as it’s one of their regular places to meet. Hunk’s dad’s house is great. His parents are divorced, and since his mom lives out in Chicago and his dad doesn’t do anything but lie in bed (Keith doesn’t ask why) they can pretty much just do whatever they want in Hunk’s basement. They only really have to avoid it when his grandparents are around, and as they only come up on most weekends, this one thankfully not included, it’s usually pretty easy to chill.

"Hey, Keith," Hunk grins, when he opens his front door. "Was hoping you could make it, kinda thinkin’ you wouldn’t be able too."

Keith shrugs. "My buddy Matt was tripping really bad on acid. I needed to calm him down before coming, you know?"

Hunk grimaces. "I know. Acid can be a real bitch if you have a bad trip. Never had one myself, oh god, but Coran and Nyma have lost their shit a couple of times for real. Next time we’ve got any, I’ll let you know. I won’t be having any, but it’s a right laugh to watch the others."

Panic ensues, but just for a second because Keith swallows it down expertly, and his role as Keith settles in quickly. "I’d love to, yeah," he grins.

His confidence is building, all in all, Keith muses as he follows Hunk down the hallway. Matt and Pidge were wrong when they said he was a bad actor. He can be great, if he puts his mind to it. Right now, he is doing great.

Because Keith Kogane, God, he’d been muttering and stumbling and tripping over his words, making bad jokes and references no one ever understood and generally making a fucking dumbass out of himself. No one would like Keith Kogane, he’s all nerdy and a loser, very little friends and too many bad habits. Zero social skills. No adventurous streak whatsoever.

But Keith, he’s different. He’s shy and untrusting at first, but once he’s comfortable, he’s cool and easy going and he’s up for anything. He’s-

He’s everything Lance McClain wants him to be.

 

Hunk leads Keith into the kitchen, where he notices Nyma standing. He’s not going to lie, he’s a bit scared.

“Could you help carry nacho’s downstairs, dude? Nyma and I just made them.”

Nyma then notices Keith’s presence, and he’s expecting some disgusted, disgruntled look, but she just blankly stares and them. 

“Actually Hunk, there’s def’ not enough cheese on these, I’m gonna have to add more. You can go down though, I can bring them after.”

“Yeah, but we should still help you carry the goods when they’re-,” 

Hunk’s cut off mid-sentence as we hear a loud crash, followed by a scream the sounded like Shay’s.

“Oh no,” Hunk says as he starts to make his way to the basement staircase. “Keith d’you mind helping her after? I have to make sure everything’s not destroyed down there!”

Keith is about to protest, but only squeaks out a pathetic “oh,” by the time Hunk has already disappeared behind a wall, and so Keith is left with just Nyma.

She shoots him a lopsided smirk before beginning to put cheese and some other things into a bowl.

“Look man, I know it probably seems like I hate you.”

Keith sputters out some weird noise, unsure of how to correctly respond and also shocked that she was even talking to him..

She chuckles lightly.

Keith feels so fucking awkward. He has no idea what she’s looking for out of this conversation, and he feels like it’s just a ploy to make himself out to be even more of the idiot than she probably (definitely) already sees him as.

“I mean I wouldn’t say i thought that you hated me specifically but more so uh- just my existence around you.”

Nyma laughs, as she puts the bowl of cheese into the microwave.

“That’s completely justified, I guess,” she chuckles as she hops onto the counter.

Keith hums in some weird type of agreement

She doesn’t speak again. Keith isn’t sure whether he’s thankful for that or not, but it feels unfinished, like they’re definitely going to have this conversation again some time. He’s not sure if he’ll be more prepared then than he is at this moment, but his mental state thanks everything on earth that he has a break in this topic.

Nyma pulls the bowl out of the microwave as the timer hits one second, using the sleeves of her sweater to hold the, presumably warm, container; Keith finds that sort of humbling. Immediately she coats the chips in the cheese sauce and hands Keith a plate covered in very cheesy nachos.

“Cool,” is all she says as he places the bowl, now empty of cheese, into the sink and heads for the basement.

Keith follows in suit and pushes open Hunk’s basement door. The two of them file down the stairs, carefully holding the trays. Immediately Nyma slumps into the chair right beside the staircase with her food in hand, just placing one of the trays on the couch beside her. Keith lingers in the doorway, noticing Hunk trying to help Shay clean up something off the floor, but she’s too busy shuffling through the music from her phone and playing it from some bluetooth speaker to care about helping full heartedly. Allura is scrolling on her phone on the couch above Lance, and he and Coran are each leaning against the two separate couches next to where Nyma is as well, with little trails of green surrounding them and white filters in their hands.

Keith Kogane panics.

He knows what this is in an instant. It’s obvious that they’re rolling joints, not normal cigarettes, and for a second it feels like his world is crumbling because he doesn’t want to smoke weed. He doesn’t. He’s never wanted to. He can’t-

"Keith!" Lance grins, a smile lighting up all around his face and his eyes shining a brighter blue than normal. "Fuck, I’m so glad you’re here! You’re timing is also fantastic, want one?"

Keith wants to say no. He’s never wanted to drugs, this isn’t the right thing.

But Lance’s smile, and the murmur of "hey Keith”’s and "Keith!“‘s echoing around the room-

Keith Kogane might not want to do this, but Keith certainly would.

And right now, he isn’t Keith Kogane, is he?

He’s in role, he’s Keith, and he’s Lance’s some kind of obscure relationship-type-thing and a friend of the rest, and Lance’s hands are working like magic to secure the joint, a red lighter poised at his ankle.

Keith bites his lip. Lance’s still smiling, and Allura is pushing past him to sprawl out across the couch to reach for one of the nacho plates on the other couch. His breath catches in his throat, and before the words are formed on his lips, he already knows his answer.

 

Keith forces a smile onto his face, carelessly shrugging and trying to swallow down the fluttering feeling in his chest.

"Sure," he says, and Lance grins.

It’s not long later that he and Coran have rolled up two pretty thick spliffs. Shay and Hunk make their way over to the rest of the group, sitting on the unoccupied couch that, before Allura snagged them, had nachos as its only resident. This forms a sort of circle across the couches and floor, and Keith somehow finds himself on the floor beside Lance and directly in front of Allura, and he’s inwardly trying to calm himself down.

Keith Kogane is seeping into his role. He’s feeling nervous, and sweaty, because what if he does it wrong? What if he chokes, or panics, or makes an idiot out of himself in front of all of these people?

Keith has always had friends. He’s had Matt and Pidge, but he’s never been popular or cool and for the most part he’s been alone. He’s always been a third wheel, a quiet, edgy, little nerd, never invited to anything and always tagging along with the most accepting of crowds.

But this- this friendship is different. These people like him, and Keith, in some strange, twisted way, fits in. They’re accepting and they’re funny, and generally nice people but more than anything they’re cool, they’re reckless and different. They’re like some sort of unknowing crew of bodyguards, and while Keith is Lance’s something and a friend of the rest, he’s okay, and no one will touch him.

He doesn’t want to lose that. But everything is so fragile.

Keith gulps, and he shakes his head, tensing. No; he’s going to do this, and he won’t allow himself to fuck up.

"You okay?" Lance murmurs, turning to look at him. His hand reaches for Keith’s knee, where his hand lays balled into a fist, and he gently touches his fingers to Keith’s.

Keith nods. "Just- really tired," he explains, with a shrug, and takes Lance’s hand in his, suddenly getting a burst of confidence and slipping back into role.

"I’ll wake you up," he offers, with a quick wink and Keith blushes, and then Lance presses his lips gently to Keith’s, as the first joint in Coran’s hand is lit and hazy smoke begins to swirl in patterns around the room. Suddenly Keith doesn’t feel as scared of the situation. Lance is with him, and Keith is pretty sure if he managed to smoke a cigarette he can smoke a joint. The second is lit a few minutes later and it’s passing the opposite way the first did. 

The first one reaches Lance, and Keith’s grip on his hand loosens slightly so he’s able to observe. Keith watches as the tip of it lights up orange, and it starts to flake into the air with the smoke. Lance looks over at Keith and gently removes the joint from his mouth and exhaling the smoke out with a smile. He breathes for a moment then goes in for another hit.

The environment feels much more relaxed than Keith had initially anticipated it to be, and Allura passes her joint down to Keith, and he just takes it without question, the same way he would a cigarette. He carefully tries to mimic Lance’s movements, and he manages to do it. The taste is strange but he doesn’t choke, and it’s definitely not as awful as he had presumed.

And- it’s weird, the way it makes him feel. His laughter comes a little easier; his smile almost constant, though it’s not the same for everyone as Coran is lazily sprawled out starfish style on the floor not long later. It’s sort of-

He feels high, in this way that- it’s not as if he can fly. He doesn’t feel powerful, or on top of the world or even manic he just feels relaxed, and sort of light. Loose, and a little more carefree.

And Lance- he shoots him a lopsided smile maybe 10 minutes after his first hit and he crawls over and even under the essence of something else, his kisses are still long and lingering and send shivers down Keith’s spine, along with pink stains across his cheeks.

They break apart so Lance can take one of the, now much smaller, joints. Keith lays his head on Lance’s shoulder, and looks up as he takes a long hit, blowing the smoke upwards with his eyes closed the whole time. Keith realizes that this is the most relaxed he’s seen Lance- the most relaxed he’s seen any one of them, really, and he feels even better being around them knowing that. Knowing that they feel comfortable enough around him to be in such a serene yet vulnerable and irrational state, is oddly comforting.

Lance then leans down and captures Keith’s lips in a deep kiss. Then he’s blowing smoke into Keith’s mouth, and it totally catches him off guard, but he goes along with it and blows it out when Lance pulls away from the kiss.

———--------

Keith does manage to make up with Matt and Pidge. Kind of.

It’s ten pm on Sunday night, he’s completely wound down from the high-hangover now and he’s biting his lip as he sends off a text-

_im really sorry for being such a dick lately fuckckk_

And Pidge replies not long after-

_it’s a-okay asshole, you were just busy being a little slut xoxoxoxox ;)_

Keith grins, because he knows Pidge, and he knows that this is their way of saying "yeah, it’s okay, let's put it behind us so Matt and I can continue making fun of you".

He does wonder, though, what Matt and Pidge would say. About the graffiti, and the sex, and the drugs. The smoking and riding through the streets too fast at quarter to one in the morning. About the fact that Lance is not his boyfriend, not really, they’re just two guys and they like each other and they have a tendency to start kissing or getting each other off.

Pidge would laugh.

Matt would frown.

Keith shakes his head as he tosses his phone to the floor, clambering into his bed because really, he’s not doing anything wrong. He’s just living a little and impressing Lance- is that such a bad thing?

He’s still Keith. When he does those things he’s just- he’s just acting. And he really likes his part, and sometimes faking it is the best way to be alive.

In any case, it’s none of their business.

———

"Keith, you are twenty minutes late!" Mr. Howden frowns as Keith hastily slips into the biology classroom.

Everybody is staring at him- fantastic, and all of their faces are glowing a little pink from what seems to be an over-exposure of bunsen burners. An experiment is clearly going on, which is great. Of course he’s late for a lab day.

Keith hates doing labs. He never has anyone to work with (he’s the third wheel, it’s MattAndPidgeOhAndKeith and it always has been), and Mr Howden is a sad old man with very little hair and he doesn’t like Keith very much, so he’s usually sent to work with some random student. Last week it was Paula, an exchange student from somewhere in Europe, he thinks Denmark but can’t be sure, and her accent was so thick he had to ask her to repeat everything at least three times and it was just exhausting. And the week before that it was Jack who always smells funny and never seems to shower and before that it was a popular girl called Claire who wore rubber gloves the whole time and looked disgusted every time Keith breathed in her direction.

So you could say he doesn’t have much luck with this class.

"Yeah,I’m sorry Mr. Howden," says Keith, meekly.

"Sorry is not an explanation, Keith."

"I lost my bag," Keith lies. He’d kind of maybe been round the back of the sports field with Lance and Shay and Allura, because Lance had needed a smoke and they were looking for a lighter and, you know Nyma’s friend Rolo had one so they had to find him and lost track of time.

But Keith doesn’t regret it. He doubts he’s missed anything utterly life changing in the lesson and besides, he got a kiss and Lance gave him six drags and it was nice. They’d played Radiohead out of the speakers on Allura’s Spotify and Keith had felt relaxed, accepted.

Mr Howden rolls his eyes. "Nothing I wouldn’t expect from a skittish mess like you. Sit down."

“Sup, bitch," says Pidge when Keith slips into the seat beside them and Matt, dropping his bag to the side of the desk.

"Hey," Keith says.

Matt wrinkles his nose. "You don’t smell too good."

Keith frowns. "What do you mean?"

"He means," Pidge says. "That you might as well have a neon sign over your head reading "I JUST WENT FOR A SMOKE"."

Keith blushes. "Well, I wasn’t smoking. Lance and a couple others were, but I wasn’t."

"Please," Pidge sighs. "We can smell it on your breath. It’s fine, Keith, do what you wanna."

"But I wasn’t!"

"Right," Matt says. "You were though. You’d do anything for lover boy."

Keith decides not to answer. He knows that he’ll get just get mad and the entirety of the previous situation will be repeated. Instead, he just changes the subject. "What are we doing?"

Matt shrugs. "Hell if I know. Pidge is the brains, you know that."

"And what are you?" Pidge says, raising his eyebrow. "The muscle?"

Matt scoffs. “Obviously not. I’m the other brains but with good looks.”

Keith snickers.

"Kogane!" Mr Howden calls. "Three’s a crowd. You’ll be working with Oliver this lesson."

Keith glances at Oliver. Oliver sneezes five times in response, groaning as he reaches in his pocket for a tissue.

Typical.

———

They’re filing out of the lesson, bags slung over their shoulders and Keith catches Pidge rolling their eyes at the squealing of Heather, Claire and Emily who are all stood in front of them.

"So, have you got your prom dress yet?" Heather asks.

"No," Chloe sighs. "It’s late night shopping tomorrow, though-"

"All the good dresses will be gone, you know that, right?" Emily says, flicking a strand of brown hair that brushes against Keith’s nose. He blinks. He wishes this door wasn’t so small. "I’ve ordered mine online."

"Oh my God, me too!" Heather squeals, clinging onto Emily. "I’ve got my date all set, too!"

"Same!” Chloe and Emily chorus.

They rush off, giggling, talking about makeup and nails and the flashiest ride they can get.

"Oh my God," Matt says, mimicking Heather. "Like! Prom soon! Who are you going with? What are you wearing? Like!"

Pidge grins. "Like, I don’t even know. I wanted the pink but, like, Keith said I looked too much like a stereotype so now I’m conflicted!"

"Same!" Keith says, sarcastically.

Matt laughs. "God, they annoy me," he says. 

“How is it that all girls end up becoming the epitome of stereotypical dumb popular bitch when it comes to prom?” Pidge asks laughing. “Like, It's so strange to see Heather act like that when she normally is all about rugby, y’know?”

"Seriously, though, we’re still going together, right? Like as a group?" Matt asks.

"Just as planned," Keith shrugs. "Not much different then when we usually hang. It’ll be gay as hell."

"Keith?"

Keith looks up, grinning when he spots Lance passing with Allura at his side.

"Hey!" he says, noticing Matt and Pidge exchange a glance at the confidence in his voice.

Lance runs his hand through his hair. "What are you so excited about?"

"Just talking about prom," Keith shrugs. "Nothing interesting."

"Prom?" Lance smirks. "I remember ours. Me and Allura spiked the punch-"

"Half of the year was out of it by 9," Allura finishes, a grin plastered on her face. "Poor Mrs Henley had a lot of explaining to do."

"Couldn’t prove it was us, either."

“That’s great," Keith laughs. "I probably wouldn’t wanna do anything like that though you know? I feel like they’d find a way to frame me without any proof, there’s probably more security in making sure nothing like that can happen, thanks to you two.”

Lance chuckles. "Yeah, I get you."

"We could always spike it with viagra," Matt shrugs. "That’d be entertaining."

Allura smirks. "Yeah, you should."

"It’d be a night to remember," Keith says. "I guess."

"Though," Pidge muses. "Knowing Keith, he’d forget what we did, and he’d end up drinking it-"

Keith’s cheeks flare. Lance looks at him, amused.

"True," Matt says. "I often forget what a klutz he is."

Keith can kind of foresee this ending badly. Because to Matt and Pidge; he’s a klutz and he’s clumsy and he doesn’t pay much attention. He’s too good and all around sweet and shy, but when he’s around Lance he is a million kilometers away from that person.

"Uh," Keith says. "Yeah. But I, um, Lance! Fuck, I forgot- I was looking for you. Can I- I mean, if it’s okay could we-"

Lance laughs. "Yeah, yeah," he says. "Sure. Come on, I can be 15 minutes late for next period, s’just philosophy. I’ll have a smoke too, I think."

Matt and Pidge raise their eyebrows, but they say their goodbye’s and wander off and Keith takes a pretty huge sigh of relief and decides that in future, just for Keith’s own sanity, Matt and Pidge should probably be kept well away from Lance and his friends.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> follow me on tumblr if u wanna be up to date with this and ask questions: dragonaire.tumblr.com


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay SO ITS BEEN LIKE 2 MONTHS im so sorry uni exam and essay season fuckin murdered me but im on break now so the new semester isnt gonna kick my ass as bad because now i know wtf to expect and there wont be as much work cause its the beginning so im going to update much more frequently.  
> ABOUT THE CHAPTER this really could have been two different chapters cause a lot is happening in it and depending on how i edit the full fic when its finished i may do that but for now yall deserve a longer chapter because ive made you wait for long god i feel so bad about it.
> 
> Heres the playlist for this specific chapter: https://open.spotify.com/user/22zirxjk424obkjxtygy4mamy/playlist/0ixF46KBl4Jcwd5OZf4fS6?si=2uBrMMYBRwyDHIQ4Y1wvvw
> 
> This is the one for the whole fic: https://open.spotify.com/user/22zirxjk424obkjxtygy4mamy/playlist/1bO5F6s0hQhpYVp00YLqbv

It’s the first of May, which means tomorrow is Keith’s prom.

He’s not exactly excited for it, but he’s definitely not complaining about not needing to go to school. That’s the only good thing he can even think of about attending prom. Sure he gets to take nice pictures with his friends, in a good suit that he knows he looks fairly decent in, but the actual prom itself isn’t appealing to him. Keith doesn’t want a part in the school hierarchy, but ‘it’s a one time thing’ Shiro told him, and so he has to go this year.

He just wishes that he knew more of the people going so he wouldn’t be as uncomfortable, but he’s an ‘antisocial emo-kid’ who no one even bothers to look at, and so knowing people is not and has never been Keith’s forte.

He doesn’t know the protocol for prom at all, either. What time does he start getting ready at? Does he leave at the time they were given or does he leave before? All Keith knows right now is that he should be working on his Macbeth essay instead of worrying about some stupid dance. This is due next week, and up until now he had forgotten it was even assigned. All he knows for the essay is that Lady Macbeth is the only woman he will ever love, so he’s probably going to write something about her. He has no idea. He’s let his grades slip ever since meeting Lance, and though he doesn’t want it to get any worse, he has no thesis idea and feels like he’d rather be taking a long nap instead of working on it. 

Keith’s phone starts to buzz.

“Hello?” he asks as he presses the accept call button.

“Hey, baby.”

Keith smiles and puts his phone on speaker as he continues to look expectantly at his essay document.

“Hey, what’s up?”

“So it’s a Thursday,” Lance exclaims. Keith laughs at him and decides to copy out some Lady Macbeth quotes from the internet onto his essay document. At least that’ll get him somewhere.

“Yes, that’s correct…”

“But there’s no school tomorrow, so it’s basically a Friday.”

“Where are you going with this, Lance?”

“And it’s 5 o’clock.”

“Okay?”

“And so I think we should get dinner.”

Keith stops typing out the quote, and stares out his window above his desk.  
Dinner. Lance wants to take him to dinner. Like as in a date? Is this him asking Keith out on a date? 

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

Keith needs to think this through. He does really like Lance, and the whole kissing thing and the sex thing are both cool, he knows how to do those things relatively enough, but a date is something he’s not accustomed to. He’s never been asked on a date, let alone gone on one, his ex boyfriend and him preferred to just stay at one of their houses and do something more chill. So to have his first date possibly with Lance McClain is a little more nerve wracking than he’d imagine most first dates would be. 

Keith knows he can’t say no to Lance, but then remembers his paper. He fucking hates his english teacher in this moment, more than he did before. He can’t blow off homework again, no matter how much as he wants to. His grades are suffering and he needs to hand in this stupid essay before Shiro questions him as to why his grades are slipping.

“I would love to, but,” he answers hesitantly.

“It’s fine if you don’t want to, I mean, if you just want to keep fucking around and stuff that’s totally cool. I just thought- I don’t know I-”

“Lance, no, oh my gosh,” Keith chuckles. “I genuinely do want to go on a date with you, it’s just that-”

Keith sighs. He has to set this limit.

“It’s just that I have an essay due on Tuesday to Miss Petherick, and it’s worth twenty percent of my grade, and I need to get into college and-”

Lance is the one to interrupt him this time.

“Babe, that’s totally fine, I understand. All you have to do is tell me these things, it’s simple, we can just go next week or something, right?”

Keith lets out a breathy chuckle. He knows all he has to do is tell Lance. He really does. But sometimes it is difficult for him to remember that Lance doesn’t care about constantly being together. That he’s understanding, and has been since they met, about Keith’s alone time and privacy. He still sometimes sees Lance as a figure ten stories above him, who he has to constantly lie to in order to impress, even though he does know on the surface that that is not the case at all. Despite Lance’s constant reassurance he always lies about any prior commitments he may have had. It’s second nature for Keith to lie and push things aside for Lance. He doesn't know why- actually, thats a lie, he does know why. He knows that the impulse is stemmed from how all he has done to Lance is- Keith doesn’t really want to finish that thought or admit it to himself, but, all he has done is tell Lance lies about who he is, so it probably just makes sense to lie about everything else too.

“Yeah. Yeah, we can just reschedule.”

“Okay, good. That’s good. I was actually really worried that you wouldn’t want to make this more than just a thing, you know? I really do like you Keith. Like a hell of a lot.”

Keith blushes.

“I really like you, too.”

“Good,” Lance sighs. “That’s good.”

Keith is surprised at the sound of relief coming from Lance’s voice. He never exactly considered that this was scary for him as well. He’s Lance McClain, that fearless and reckless senior. Yet here he was reassuring himself over the phone that some boy who he only met a few weeks ago actually does like him.

“Well, how much of your essay is done? I wanna know when I can see you next.”

“I’ve hardly started. All I have written are Lady Macbeth quotes and I am so lost.”

“I mean you do have almost a week to finish this, I’m sure that you’ll do fine.”

“I would be fine if tomorrow wasn’t prom. ‘Cause it means I have no time tomorrow to work on this and then Saturday I'll be too tired to do anything, let alone my school work and then I’ll maybe have Sunday to work on it if I’m up for it, then Monday. I’m just-” he cuts himself off with a sigh.

“Oh fuck, I forgot tomorrow was prom, I just keep thinking it’s some irrelevant holiday that we have off.”

Keith nods despite knowing that Lance wouldn’t be able to see him. 

He knows Lance finds the idea of prom to be ridiculous, which is why he loves it so much. Keith had never thought that someone like Lance would love prom, but after a half hour conversation the other week about how important it is to go, even if you don’t want to, he found out he thought very wrong. Lance apparently just loves dances and dancing and partying in general, and it’s kind of cute, but mildly exhausting for someone like him who hates any social event.

“Yep, it’s your favourite.”

“It is my favourite usually, but right now it’s keeping me from seeing you so I have some beef with it.”

Keith wants to scream, but all he can manage is a blush.

“I could try and help if you want?”

Keith wants to laugh. Lance is one of the last people he’d ask for help on his english essay. He doesn’t recall a single time Lance has mentioned his grades, but just based on how little he attends his classes, he’s sure they aren’t exactly up to Keith’s Ninety average expectations.

“I know it doesn’t seem like it, but I did receive top grade for my english class last year, and in sophomore year as well,” Lance explains. “Ms Piper is also the only teacher who likes me, and when I say she likes me, I mean she loves and adores me like I’m her only child.”

Keith laughs.

“So will you let me help you?”

Keith thinks about it for a moment. Does he believe what Lance just said? Yeah, sure, Lance hates lying, so Keith is pretty positive that him acing english is a sure-fire thing. Does he think Lance will actually help him with this essay? No. There’s no way the two of them are actually going to sit down and write an english paper. They’ll get distracted and kiss or something else within that same likeness, and the paper will probably not be any better than it is at the moment.

“Sure.”

\----------------

It’s fifteen minutes later when he hears a knock on the front door. He’s sitting at the kitchen table, slowly typing out some things he likes about Lady Macbeth as a character. He really doesn’t want to stand up.

“The door’s open!”

Keith hates that even when he decides he’s going to put his foot down to Lance, that boy still snakes into his plans. He also loves it, because now he gets to see Lance and work on homework, which is the kind of relationship he needs. He needs balance. 

Yet as he thinks that he also knows that if they do manage to complete this at all, he’s going to most likely go right back to fucking around and not working after.

“Hello? Keith?” He hears as the sound of the door opens and closes.

Keith suddenly realizes Lance has never been in his house before, only seen the outside and so he picks up his laptop and walks to meet him at the front door.

“Hey, Lance,” he greets with his hands carefully balancing his laptop in his hands.

“You look like you’re on a mission with that laptop, dude.”

Keith blushes. He doesn’t know why he’s gone red, it makes no sense to blush at something as mundane as a comment on his work ethic, and yet he can’t help himself. He never seems to be able to stop fumbling or blushing around Lance.

“At least I look it, cause I really don’t feel it.’’

“Alright, that is a call for help if I’ve ever heard one,” Lance chuckles. Keith mimics, albeit awkwardly. 

Lance follows Keith back towards the kitchen, noticeably looking at everything in his sight.

“Your home is nothing like how I expected.”

He’s not sure how to receive that. Does he mean that his house isn’t matching his whole persona? That freaks Keith out slightly, but then again Lance’s house is nothing at all like how everyone sees him so that’s easy to attempt to explain if its an issue.

“How so?”

“Very… Grandma-ish?”

Keith snorts and has to set his laptop down on the kitchen table to be able to laugh.

“I don’t mean it in a bad way it’s just that, I don’t know, I just expected it to be a bit more modern ‘cause the front of the house is so well kept I expected like-”

“Pot lights, white leather couches, modern art adorning every wall,-”

“Keith no, that’s- that’s not how I meant it oh my gosh.”

Lance has his face buried in his hands and Keith kind of loves it. It humbles Lance whenever he gets embarrassed, and allows Keith to feel more like they’re real friends.

“Lance I know you didn’t, it’s fine.” Keith puts a hand on Lance’s shoulder in an attempt to show genuinity.

“I didn’t mean to imply that I thought it was an upstate New York model home I just meant it as in I didn’t expect a fucking tweed couch in your living room.”

They both laugh, and Keith grabs all his things from the kitchen table so that they can head upstairs.

“There is reasoning behind the grandma aesthetic, and I would explain, but i’ll most likely ramble and it’ll take away time from me working on this essay, so…”

“Can I know later?”

“Sure.”

They head up the stairs to Keith’s room and he sits at his desk. Lance does the same thing that he was doing downstairs, but actually goes up close to things now. He watches as Lance picks up different knick knacks and photos on his dresser and finds himself smiling. 

Lance looks in Keith’s direction with a blue ray in his hand and a smile.

“Oh you have the front room.”

“Yeah, why does it matter?”

“No reason, just observing.”

Keith decides not to question even though it is giving him some minor anxiety. Lance puts whichever movie he had pickup back in its place and sits on Keith’s bed pulling out a macbook from his backpack.

“Alright share the google doc with me and let’s get started.”

Keith wasn’t expecting Lance to actually be so headstrong about doing this essay. He wouldn’t be lying if he said he honestly thought this was just an excuse for Lance to come over. But here he was, sharing his essay document with mouldycrouton1999@gmail.com and he can’t believe that Lance still uses an email address he made when he was 12.

They work on Keith’s essay for the next two hours. At some point they put on music and ended up working to the Day Wave spotify session album on repeat for who knows how long, and Keith has definitely heard Drag at least four times by now and he’s getting exhausted.

Lance is good at essays. He’s great, actually, and Keith is very confused about it. How could someone who gives zero fucks about going to class or just school in general have such a talent for something like writing essays? Lance has nearly written out his entire paper in these past two hours, and Keith has never loved a teacher so much for having only a minimum of 1000 words. If he wasn’t currently smoking a cigarette on Keith’s roof while writing on his laptop placed on the windowsill, this would seem so normal, yet it somehow does feel normal in some weird way.

In a strange way, this day has been the most normal he’s had in awhile. Keith feels the most at ease around Lance, especially without any weed or other people to try and be more himself with. He likes it.  
\-------------------------------------

Keith wasn’t exactly expecting prom to be good, but it’s turning out to be worse than he’d even anticipated.

It’s a nice night, all in all, Keith supposes.

It’s a nice venue. And the food was okay, and at first, it was pretty alright. He, Matt and Pidge were just kind of dicking around in the corner- though really, Keith isn’t sure why he’s even here.

Though that’s probably mostly Shiro. He was ecstatic of even the idea, rushing out to buy him a fucking suit which he’d kind of messed up anyway, by untucking his shirt and loosening his tie.

But now, Matt has ditched them both for Karsyn- though Keith is kind of inwardly thinking fucking finally because he’s had a crush on her for ages and she can’t speak to him without him going red or something. And Pidge, well even though they act like they don't want anyone, they're very obviously looking at a girl with long pink hair.

"I think I’m going to ask Amelia to dance with me," they say.

"What?" Keith protests. "I thought we were gonna stick together-"

Pidge shrugs. "Hey, it isn’t my fault that you’ve got an older man."

Keith blushes. "Not like that."

Pidge grins. 

“Well, I suppose if you're gonna ditch me for anyone I’m glad it's Amy. She’s super sweet.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, I think you should do it.”

"Okay, guess I’ll see you in a bit if this doesn’t completely backfire."

Keith sighs after them, but all too soon Pidge is disappearing into the crowds of people to find Amelia and Keith is left on his own, awkwardly standing by the drinks table.

He needs a moment. He manages to escape the crowd of people and find the exit, leaving the building from the side door and the night air feels good when it brushes against his cheek.

He sighs, sitting down on a parking curb and fumbling into his pocket to pull out his phone.

He has one new message from Lance. A smile tugs at his lips.

_hows prom, sweetheart? ;) xxxx_

_shit. Matt and Pidge have abandoned me :( xxxxx_

Keith types back.

_haha awwe baby, how about you come and meet me instead? xxxxxx_

_i look like a fucking loser xxxxxxx ___

____

_shhhhhhh i bet you look hot_  
_i have a car tonight, want me to pick you up? xxxxxxxx_

__

Keith considers. He’d kind of intended with hanging out with Matt and Pidge tonight, but that’s not looking good; besides he’d rather be with Lance. It definitely sounds better than awkwardly standing to the side, being a wallflower and succumbing to his edgy emo aesthetic Pidge is so adamant about him having.

__

_yeah, okay. how long will you be? xxxxxxxxx_

__

_give me 10 minutes?:) xxxxxxxxxx_

__

_ok xxxxxxxxxxx_

__

Keith heads back inside for half a second. The bass is still pumping, the music is still loud and Keith pushes through people to pick up his wallet hiding under Matt’s blazer and slides it into his pant pockets, before heading back outside and sitting under the sign of the Hotel, his own blazer slung over his shoulder.

__

He doesn’t have to wait long, barely reading through six tweets before Lance pulls up. He’s in some crappy car and Keith is a little lost in his own little world, not even noticing Lance at first, not until he beeps a few times and near shakes Keith out of his own skin- he’s laughing as Keith looks up with a startled expression on his face, and Keith is blushing when he climbs into the passenger seat.

__

"Hey," he grins, and Lance looks him up and down.

__

"I knew you’d look hot," he smirks, leaning over to quickly kiss Keith on the lips.

__

"Shut up," Keith mutters. "I look like a loser."

__

"A hot one, though," Lance comments. 

__

Keith shakes his head fondly. "Right, whatever. So, um. I didn’t know you had a car," he says, as Lance starts up the engine and begins to drive.

__

"I don’t," Lance shrugs.

__

Keith blinks. "Then-"

__

"Don’t worry," Lance says, flashing Keith another smile. "No one will miss it."

__

"So you stole it?" Keith says, trying to keep his voice leveled although he’s a bit anxious right now. Because stealing a car- that’s way more illegal than vandalism or doing drugs. This is theft- of someone's property no less.

__

"I guess that's a term for it," Lance says. "But I do prefer the term 'borrowed’. Don’t worry, I won’t get caught- never have been, don’t worry too much, alright?” Lance place a hand on his shoulder as if to say that it’s all okay. “Oh, I rolled you one by the way, if you want it?"

__

"I-" Keith shakes his head a little in disbelief of everything, trying to get back into character. "That’s pretty cool. I guess. Uh, yeah, I’ll have one if you’re offering."

__

"I am," Lance grins, reaching out with his spare hand to pick up two rolled cigarettes, handing one to Keith before winding down his window, lighting up, and pulling out of the venue parking lot.

__

And Keith relaxes. Lance won’t get caught, and even if he does- no, he won’t. Lance knows his shit, he knows what he’s doing and if there is one thing Keith knows for sure about Lance McClain, even before all of the time they’ve spent together- it’s that he is pretty fucking good at getting himself out of trouble.

__

Lance turns the speakers up then, and music plays loudly through the car as Lance speeds up and slithers of sound creep out of the windows that they’re smoking out of. It’s late by now, the streetlamps are the only lights. Keith doesn’t know where they’re going, and he isn’t sure Lance does either. That’s okay- they’re just driving, and it is the moment that matters, not the destination.

__

And Keith- it’s just, when he’s with Lance, he feels so alive. He feels free and far more than little Keith Kogane, the underdog. He feels cool, and liked, and that things in his life are finally going right.

__

Lance shoots him a grin, speeding up the car again and Keith isn’t even wearing a seatbelt, not right now. If they get pulled over, they’re completely fucked- but Lance is driving away from everywhere that is remotely familiar to Keith now. And when Keith is with Lance, and he’s grinning, smoke curling into the air in wisps- he doesn’t care about the consequences, whatever they might be.

——–

It’s around 2 in the morning that they lose the car.

The majority of the night has been a blur, it’s all been moving too fast. Lance has been driving them everywhere, through the busiest streets and down to the deserted parts of the city, sometimes pausing at a certain place to lean over and make out with Keith for a few minutes.

__

Shiro thinks he’s with Matt and Pidge. Matt and Pidge just suppose he’s gone home. Keith feels alive, free. No restrictions, no rules and the majority of the world around them is asleep and Keith feels alive.

__

Lance ditches the car in a back alley.

__

"Who’s is it?" Keith dares to ask.

__

Lance shrugs. "Some friend of Marty’s. One of his customers or something."

__

"Marty? That dealer?"

__

"Yeah," Lance grins. "He’s also an asshole. And his mate, Jordan or something- he’ll be off his head for a few hours. He was buying a fuck ton of cocaine."

__

"Right," says Keith. But he drops it and they carry on through the darkness, hand in hand, until Lance stops suddenly.

__

"What is it?" Keith asks, a little hesitant and he forces himself to banish any hint of worry. Nothing is wrong, they aren’t going to get stabbed-

__

"It’s just-" Lance looks at him, Keith can feel his gaze and see the shadow of his figure, though its dark and there is nothing to illuminate the alley. "Fuck, Keith, you’re so-"

__

He’s still looking at Keith, a few moments pass, and Keith just stands.

__

"So…." Lance can’t seem to find the words. "You’re just so."

__

"So what?" Keith asks anxiously.

__

Lance shrugs. "I’m not good with words. Good, we’ll go with that. You’re just so- Jesus, you’re so good."

__

And then in an instant movement he’s kissing Keith, softly at first, but then as they both deepen the kiss he slips his tongue tentatively between Keith’s lips the kiss grows, and Lance’s mouth is hot, tasting of smoke but then Keith’s used to it so it barely bothers him anymore. His lips taste like weed and cigarettes and as Lance deepens the kiss further he pushes Keith slightly, so that he falls back just a little and Lance is pushing him up against the solid wall.

__

His left hand makes its way up Keith’s shirt, brushing the skin of his back lightly, his fingers cold and Keith shivers underneath his touch. His right hand trails down, gently pressing against Keith’s thigh before curling towards his crotch and squeezing down lightly.

__

"I wanna fuck you," he mutters against Keith’s lips, and Keith’s breath catches in his throat.

__

"Yeah?" says Keith.

__

"Yeah," Lance breathes. He moves his hands down to hold Keith’s for a moment. "Wanna head back to my house?"

__

Even in the darkness, Keith can sort of make out the look in his eyes. They’re sky coloured still, shining with something, searching for Keith’s consent.

__

Keith smiles, and he nods. He wants to do this. It’s Lance, and Keith’s ready, he’s sure of it and there is no one he’d rather lose his virginity with. So he squeezes down on Lance’s hands gently.

__

"Yeah," he says.

__

The walk back to Lance’s is short from where they are, and as soon as the front door is slammed shut Lance is pressing Keith up against the wall again and kissing him roughly, his hands in his hair.

__

"Lance…" Keith murmurs against his lips. "Isn’t- shouldn’t we be quiet?"

__

"Mum’s out for work till tomorrow" Lance says. He slips his hand into Keith’s again. “Brother’s never here. Sister’s at some prom after party.” Lance kisses Keith again. "Come on."

__

He starts heading upstairs with Keith at his side, and as soon as they’re in the bedroom Lance has his lips back on Keith’s, his fingers splaying out against his skin and his tongue sliding in between his lips. He once again trails his right hand down over Keith’s crotch and begins to palm him through his trousers and Keith can’t help himself as he lets a moan curl out of his mouth against Lance’s lips.

__

Lance pulls away for half a second, smirking. Keith is shrugging his blazer off, letting it fall onto the floor around his feet, and Lance begins to slowly unbutton his shirt. Three buttons down he attaches his lips to Keith’s neck, kissing and sucking on his skin softly, though still hard enough to leave a mark, and his fingers are still working against those few buttons until Keith is sliding his shirt off.

__

He’s hesitant for a moment, and then he leans forward and kisses Lance again, brushing his fingers over Lance’s hips and slowly lifting up his shirt as he strokes coolly over his chest, and Lance moans softly when they caress the skin of his neck.

__

"Have you got something about your neck?" Keith murmurs as Lance lets out another shuddery breath, Keith’s finger still tracing patterns over the skin. "Some kind of like, turn on spot?"

__

"Think it’s just you," Lance mutters.

__

Keith smirks, leaning forward again and kissing Lance’s neck slowly, every moment soft and gentle and he can hear Lance’s faint moaning and it’s making him want this even more.

__

Lance pulls away from Keith’s touch then, for half a second before crashing his lips back to Keith’s and moving his hands to Keith’s pants and tugging them down, still palming Keith through his boxers before he begins to pull at the waistband and they slip down Keith’s legs. His hand almost immediately reaches for Keiths dick as he trails his lips along his jaw, then down onto his neck before scattering Keith’s chest with light kisses. Lance begins to stroke him slowly and softly, and Keith lets out a breathy moan.

__

Lance’s hand pumps along his cock faster as Lance kisses him again.

__

"Lance," Keith murmurs.

__

Lance pulls away from Keith, and looks into his eyes expectantly. Keith doesn’t know what he wanted to say so he just kisses him. Lance moves his hand away from Keith’s dick and Keith almost shivers; he misses the contact and he’s so fucking hard, and Lance just has this way of doing something to him.

__

"Stop wearing so much," Keith mumbles. Lance grins, and Keith reaches out to unzip Lance’s jeans and tug them down, along with his boxers.

__

Lance spares a moment to reach into the drawer a little while away from them, and Keith closes his eyes and bites down on his lip, stroking his own cock lightly as Lance grabs a condom and coats himself in lube.

__

And then Lance’s kissing him again, while at the same time gently gently pushing him back until Keith feels Lances bed at his feet and falls onto the soft mattress. Lance clambers on top of him, kissing him a few more times on the lips before he adds one coated finger.

__

Keith winces at the feeling, closing his eyes, but then it isn’t too bad. He can cope. When Lance adds the second, it does hurt a little more.

__

"Fuck, you’re tight," Lance mumbles.

__

"It’s, um, been a while," Keith mutters, though it hasn't been, but he knows that it’ll be worth it in the end and so when Lance adds another finger, he manages to bare it. 

__

And then Lance curls his fingers upwards, slightly, and something just hits Keith and he closes his eyes, a little overcome with pleasure, and this moan tumbles out from between his lips.

__

"Fuck," he whimpers.

__

Lance grins. "Should be enough," he murmurs in decision, before removing his fingers and Keith feels kind of weird, missing the sensation a little bit. "You okay?"

__

"Fine," Keith insists. "Just- I don’t- just fuck me, okay?"

__

Lance nods before pressing the tip of his cock at Keith’s entrance a little hesitantly. Keith breathes; it feels weird, but it's okay. He can deal with it, and it’s worth it, right? Lance slides himself all of the way in for a moment before pulling out again, and Keith winces again at the pain.

__

Lance repeats the motion a few times, with Keith maneuvering slightly to allow Lance to slide all of the way inside him. It gets a little easier every time and soon Lance is thrusting into him with a little more ease each time.

__

The pain becomes less obvious, and soon he begins to feel pleasure with every thrust. Keith feels like he’s almost seeing stars, he swears, as Lance’s dick hits deeper inside of him and this feeling of lust and something else just explodes within him and he moans.

__

"Lance," he breathes. "Fuck, Lance."

__

"This is," Lance moans. "This feels-"

__

And Keith isn’t really paying much attention, still engulfed in this fucking feeling and Lance is still moving inside of him, hitting his prostate recently with every movement. Lance reaches out then, cupping Keith’s cock with his left hand and pumping it slowly.

__

"Fuck," Keith murmurs again. There’s this feeling in his stomach, this warm, familiar feeling that he’s only ever felt when he’s getting off or when he’s with Lance and he’s moaning like he never has done before. "Fuck. Lance, I’m gonna- I’m-"

__

"Me too," Lance mumbles, his voice breathless. "I want you to come for me, Keith."

__

That kind of does it for Keith; the feeling of Lance’s cock inside of him, the breathy moan that’s lacing his voice and his sweaty palms against Keith’s skin, and Keith lets out another moan as he comes over his stomach and Lance’s hand. And as he clenches around Lance’s cock, Lance comes too, deep inside of Keith.

__

He pulls out moments later, discarding the condom somewhere behind the side table and the two of them collapse onto Lance’s bed, still breathless.

__


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> YALL THIS CHAPTER IS WILDIN
> 
> \--------------
> 
> Heres the playlist for this specific chapter: https://open.spotify.com/user/22zirxjk424obkjxtygy4mamy/playlist/6U5a8WrAaxmX0ri4cYuWSa?si=pL07IPYwRA2HQq5c_Bb54A
> 
> This is the one for the whole fic: https://open.spotify.com/user/22zirxjk424obkjxtygy4mamy/playlist/1bO5F6s0hQhpYVp00YLqbv

The next morning, they’re sat at Lance’s kitchen table. Or, Keith is; Lance is leant up against the fridge with a bowl of frosted flakes in his hands, and he keeps giving Keith this odd look, and Keith just keeps blushing and tries to remain staring at his shreddies.

Suddenly they hear a door open at the front of the house, and Keith panics for a moment, because who would just be walking into a house? But then he looks at Lance, who looks as calm as ever, and remembers he has 3 siblings and parents who live with him, and it’s probably one of them.

“Lance?” He hears a girl call.

“Kitchen!” Lance calls back putting his bowl of cereal into the sink.

“You whore,” she says the second she steps foot into the kitchen. And Keith’s heart rate speeds up, cause he has no idea what’s happening, or what that word means in the context of Lance. Because what if he’s sleeping with other people, and Keith is just one of many guys and girls that have been over this week?

“What’s that’s supposed to mean, Illiana?”

“You have the audacity to have your boy over when you knew I was coming back home early today. How rude.”

Keith’s slight panic subsides when he hears her say ‘your boy’ and the jokingness in her tone.

“Okay, says the one who brings her douchey boyfriend home nearly every evening.”

“Yeah, at least I had the courage to ask someone to be my boyfriend,” she says, pointing at Keith as she readjusts the bag on her back, looking at Lance expectantly.

Lance huffs.

“Ana, you’re pushin’ your luck here.” He says hopping off the counter, as if it was a defence mechanism.

She gives him a grin then turns to sit town in one of the seats to Keith’s left.

“Keith, right?”

“Uh, right.”

“I’m Lance’s sister, Iliana. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you around school before.”

Keith just shrugs, not wanting to explain that it’s because he had been the definition of an emo-wallflower embodied for most of high school.

“Then again Lance does always tell me I need to be more observant if I’m going to meet people,” she trails off then, looking up towards where Lance was stood.

The two of them just watch one another for a few moments, and Keith wonders if they’re having some strange brother-sister telepathy conversation thing, because that’s the only thing that would explain the looks they keep giving each other.

She turns her attention back to Keith.

“Anyways, I should head upstairs. Gotta write that 1920’s essay for Lourd.”

Then she stands up and stretches her arms above her head. After taking one strap og her bag off of her shoulder she walks towards Keith, and leans down to give him a chaste embrace.

“It was nice to finally meet you.” She exclaims while pulling away from a very surprised Keith. But it didn’t sound directed at him, more so Lance, as if she was bitter about something he had done.

The two boys then watch as she jogs up the stairs, taking two at a time.

"Hey, Keith?" Lance says, eventually.

"Yeah?"

“Sorry about all that.”

And Keith laughs, because, that exchange was nothing to be sorry for, he was sort of relieved to know that Lance’s family actually exists and isn’t something just made up.

“My family doesn’t know what personal space is, either, so I’m also sorry specifically about that. They always seem to forget that not everyone is comfortable with hugging someone when they first meet and-”

“Lance, it’s alright, really.”

Lance lets out a long sigh after a moment, and gives a half smile.

"I know this is probably super confusing to you," Lance says. "Because I know we’ve already had sex and everything which is-”

"What?" Keith asks, and he’s confused more about the statement than the action, but he’s blushing still at the mention of last night, his heart beating pretty erratically.

“What I mean to say, is that we aren’t exactly following the proper order of how to do things, so I know this may seem like it’s coming sort of out from left field but-”

He breaks off his own sentance, and Keith is hanging off of every moment, because if he’s trying to say what he think he is, then oh my god this is insane.

"Okay, I really don’t know how to ask these things but- do you, maybe, I don’t know, wanna be my boyfriend?"

Keith can’t help but grin. He’s never seen Lance acting nervous or shy or falling over his words, he’s always been so confident and completely self-assured. It’s sort of cute.

"Obviously not," Keith says sarcastically, but he notices Lance’s eyes flicker a little downcast, and so he quickly says, "I’m joking! Of course I- I’d love to, oh my gosh."

Lance grins. "Good," he murmurs, and then he leans over and kisses Keith chastely on the forehead. 

———–

"Where did you go after prom?" Matt asks, a little surprised later that day as Keith walks into Pidge’s room. "I thought you were coming over?"

Pidge is sprawled out across their entire bed, leaving only a small space near the head board for Matt to sit. Even with that space Pidge has their legs on top of Matt, so it’s not much. 

"I was," Keith mumbles.

Matt’s still looking at him from above his 3DS expectantly, while Pidge is still invested in whatever game they’re playing. He feels like he needs to give them both an explanation. Matt is looking like a mother awaiting for her child's explanation as to why there’s no pasta left in the cupboards. But Keith doesn’t really think Matt would think his reason for ditching them last night was a sufficient one. Yet he blanks on an excuse, and just says the first thing he thinks will suffice.

"Yeah, I’m sorry."

Matt shrugs, and Pidge finally looks away from the game and at Keith. "S’fine."

"Where were you though?" Pidge asks. "You just disappeared."

Keith internally sighs. He knew they would question further instead of dropping it, they never let him get away with anything, always sticking their noses into Keith’s business.

"Lance picked me up," Keith decides. He sees Matt raise his eyebrows a little at the mention of Lance’s name, but he decides to brush it off and just tell them the truth.

"Lance has a car?" Matt asks a little skeptical, closing his DS and turing his full body to pay more attention to Keith.

"Um, yeah?" Keith offers.

"Bet you’re lying," Pidge says, rolling over and closing their DS as well.

Fuck. They’re both looking at him differently. Matt looks like he’s worried, like he still has hope that Keith wasn’t doing anything illegal and that Lance may be the great person he makes him out to be. Pidge on the other hand is smirking. A know it all, as usual, and they’re clearly intrigued by the notion that Keith most likely is lying about a lot more than just what he’s been called out on.

"Okay, okay. So it wasn’t his car, but-"

"So you were joyriding?" Matt exclaims. His eyebrows nearly take up his entire forehead in surprise. Pidge’s smile grows wider.

Keith stutters.

"So he stole a car, than?" Pidge asks.

Keith hesitates. "I guess that’s a term you could use to describe it. But-"

Matt shakes his head. "What are you getting yourself into, Keith?"

"It was just for fun!" Keith protests. "It isn’t like we stole the car, he doesn’t have it anymore.”

Matt sighs, and buries his face into his hands exasperatedly. 

"What, so you returned it with an apology note and a fruit basket?"

"No!" Keith says, heatedly.

Matt stands up and walks over to Keith, sniffing his coat.

“Dude what the hell?”

“Wow, the smell of cigarette smoke. Should have guessed, though lately I can never tell if it’s from him or you anymore.”

“What relevance is this, Matt?”

“You stayed with him all night didn’t you? You were with him before coming here.”

Keith lets out a surprised breath and looks over to Pidge, who was now sitting up in the bed watching them argue with a scared look on their face. If Pidge is at a loss for words, than Keith is dumbfounded. He’s never seen Matt like this. Ever. Keith’s the hot head in the trio, Matt is usually the one who mellows him out, and this is brand new territory for all of them.

“Did he drop you off in the stolen car?”

"Matt what the fuck! Since when do you care whether I’m with Lance or not?"

"When you started acting like a fucking dick to get some low-life pretty-boy to like you, that’s when!"

"Okay guys," Pidge says. "Just calm down."

"I’m not acting any different!" Keith huffs.

Matt snickers. "Sure you’re not.” He says bringing the volume down in his voice. “Smoking, drinking too much, fucking around with guys you don’t even know-” He shakes his head. “Oh and let’s not forget joyriding, all just typical Keith Kogane behaviour, isn’t it? What else are you doing? Drugs?"

Keith turns his head away from Matt and balls his hands together into fists, digging whatever nails he has left from biting them off into the palms of his hands. He doesn’t answer Matt.

Pidge sighs. "Really, Keith?"

"I don’t do anything bad," Keith says, turning to face them. "It’s harmless."

"Harmless," Matt repeats.

"You two are acting like you’re parents," Keith says. "I don’t need this."

“Well actually you do since your parents aren’t exactly here to tell you that you're being a fucking dumbass!”

“Oh so it’s my fault that my parents are dead and can’t boss me around like you are, is it? Well guess what I don’t need you filling their roles just cause they aren’t here, I’m perfectly fine with just Shiro.”

"That is not what I said, Keith," Matt says. "You’re trying to put words into my mouth to make it seem like you’re the victim here.”

“Well you’re the one who started attacking me for what I chose to do with my time, so that kind of does make me the victim, Matt. You don’t have the right to tell me that who I am is-”

“This is not who you are!” Matt yells grabbing his head with his hands and beginning to pace. “You’re only doing this to make yourself look cool and reckless to fuck Lance. That’s the only-”

"That’s not true. He’s my boyfriend-"

"Boyfriend! Wow! And yet does he actually know anything about you? Anything that’s true?”

"Guys, stop arguing, this is getting out of hand," Pidge tries. No one listens to them.

"You’re being a dick," Keith says.

"Well you look like a dick. You’re always lying to yourself, lying about yourself. Would Lance even like you? The real you? Have you ever even stopped to consider that once during this?"

There’s a short, deathly silence, and Keith is really fucking angry. Because Matt is his best friend, and Keith hasn’t done anything wrong for fucks sake. And he’d been in such a happy, airy mood, feeling breezy and okay because he’d had sex with Lance and they were officially together and it’s no one’s business anyway. He can’t believe that Matt thought he could just judge Keith for being with Lance before he even fucking sat down and hung out with them for five minutes.

“Fuck off, Matt.”

Matt glares at him. "Gladly," he growls, and Pidge is still sat on their bed, looking after Matt until he slams Pidge’s door behind him.

"Aren’t you gonna follow him?" Keith says after a few moments.

Pidge turns to look at him. Another moment passes with Pidge trying to regain their composure, then they sigh.

"I hate arguing," they say.

Keith just looks at them, and Pidge gives a half assed smile and shrugs.

He genuinely does feel bad, but he’s still calming himself down and can’t really give a genuine apology.

“Sorry,” he still murmurs.

“It’s not your fault alone for that argument, Keith, don’t feel like you have to apologize,” Pidge says. “But come on, you do know that we’re genuinely worried about you, right? We- or at least I’m not just being petty."

“I know, but most of the time it feels like you guys think I’m an idiot. Even though I know what I’m getting myself into when I do things with Lance, you both treat me like I’m five years old.”

Pidge sighs.

“Keith, I don’t intentionally mean to treat you like a kid,” they explain. “But sometimes I feel even though you think you can handle a situation, you’re in situations that could be a detriment.”

“I always get myself out of a situation that I know I can’t or don’t want to handle,” Keith argues. “Remember when I had you call me that time Lance wanted to smoke with me?”

“Yeah, but you did that by lying,” says Pidge

“Who cares how I do it, as long as I do it right?”

“No, Keith,” Pidge sighs, curling in on themself in their bed. “That’s the whole point Matt was trying to make. You have told so many lies in the last few weeks no one can even tell, including you, what’s the truth. It’s not healthy for you or anyone you’re around, even Lance.”

Keith doesn’t answer

“Especially Lance.”

He looks down at the wooden floors, unsure of what to say.

"Look," Pidge sighs, again. "We’re worried because you’re not acting like yourself, and you seem really into Lance, which is super cool man, but- the thing is, Matt is right. Lance doesn’t know you, and he should. He deserves to know what you’re actually like as much as you deserve for him to know too. And if he’s so nice and you like him so much, he deserves the truth. Doesn’t he?"

Keith thinks about it for a moment but just gives a shrug. Pidge gives an exhausted look and he decides it’s time for him to leave.

———-----

School on Monday kind of sucks.

It’s a long day and now he’s got Matt sending him glares and Pidge raising his eyebrows and so he keeps away from them, staying with Lance and Lan- their friends.

He’s pretty thankful when the school bell rings and it’s the end of the day, collecting up his work and slinging his bag over his shoulder and walking out of school on his own, feeling like the weight of Matt’s gaze lifted off his shoulders.

Or at least it was lifted, until Eric Kelly, Jamie Moore and Aiden Taylor come crashing down on him like boulders. And he’s alone, which makes him suddenly very much aware of the fact that he’s not cool, or popular or tough at all. He’s just Keith Kogane and he’s still very much Eric’s favourite target when Lance isn’t around.

"Knew you were a homo," Eric Kelly calls.

"Didn’t know you were sleeping with McClain, though," Jamie adds.

“Didn’t know you were sleeping with anyone,” Jaime and Aiden say at the same time. They hi-five each other as if it was the most impressive thing they had ever done. Knowing them it’s probably is.

Keith rolls his eyes. "Leave me alone," he mumbles, trying to push past the three of them without a fuss.

"You’ve been kind of absent recently, Kogane," Eric Kelly taunts, getting closer to Keith so that he has to walk back and lean against a wall, his bag sliding off of his shoulder slightly.

"Too busy fucking McClain?" Aiden sneers.

"I mean," Eric Kelly continues. "We knew you were gay all along. Didn’t know McClain was a fairy, though."

"Fairy? What is this, 1957?" Keith remarks. And then he panics, because he shouldn’t talk back to them like that, he hardly has the energy for anything today, let alone the energy to run from them because he couldn't hold back a snarky remark for once.

“Sorry, didn’t know that there was a time stamp on being a Daffy,” Eric replies, stalking closer to Keith.

Keith visibly is uncomfortable. The terms Eric is throwing at him mean absolutely nothing, but the way he says them, so filled with hate, is worse than anything else he had ever said up until this point.

“Why do you hate people for just being gay?” Keith asks. He’s aware he’ll regret asking, but really he is not having any of this bullshit right now, and it’s prolonging whatever is happening before they try to punch him.

“We don’t,” Eric says. And okay, Keith is very confused, because he knew they were fucking dumb, but to think that they thought they weren’t being homophobic is on a whole other level of stupidity that is incredible to Keith.

“It’s just an easy thing to hate you for now, pansy.”

Oh. Now Keith is even more uncomfortable, because Eric and his gang probably wouldn’t throw these terms around like 1950’s parents if it wasn’t him that was gay, and that just fucking sucks. Like a whole lot.

“Would you prefer i call you princess?”

Keith swallows a lump in his throat and balls his hands into fists.

“Or faggot.”

Eric Kelly punches him in the stomach. Keith flinches.

"I-"

And then he’s struggling to run past Eric, being tugged right back to the wall by all three of them. Keith is trying to dodge as many throws he possibly can, all while still attempting to break through the wall of the boys, but it’s nearly useless when the strength of those three all put together is far more than Keith can pull out. He’s definitely strong enough to push through one of them, but three determined guys is different. He doesn’t know what he’s gotten himself into.

"Get the fuck off him!"

The struggling subsides for a moment as the three boys turn to look at the intruder, and Keith cracks open his eyes to look beyond the guys.

And, well- there’s Lance, a rolled cigarette between his fingers at his side and a glare fixed on his face as he shoots Eric, Jamie and Aiden a poisonous look.

"McClain," Eric Kelly says, and Keith can hear the panic in his voice. It’s hilarious. "We weren’t-"

"Sure you weren’t," Lance spits, clearly not buying a single thing that would have come out of his mouth.

He brings the cigarette back up to his mouth to take a drag,. "I said get away from him."

"He has it coming!" Aiden yells.

"Look," Lance says in a low voice, dropping the cigarette to the ground and stubbing it out with his foot. "I don’t give a fuck who you are or what he owes you, but you best get away from him. Right now.”

He takes a step forwards, square with Eric Kelly, “You touch him and I’ll break your fucking neck."

Jamie and Aiden stare at Eric Kelly expectantly. Eric Kelly gulps, and then glares at Lance, suddenly filled with more stamina than he had been previous.

"Look, gay boy, you can’t tell us what to do-"

He’s cut off as Lance punches him straight out in the face.

"Fuck," Eric Kelly hisses, doubling over and clutching his nose, gritting his teeth. He leans up to punch Lance and catches him in the stomach, but Lance just lazily brings his foot out and sharply kicks Eric Kelly in the shin in retort.

"You son of a bitch," Jamie mutters, stepping forward but before he can hit Lance first, Lance sends a quick punch to his stomach and a fight breaks out while Keith just sits, horror-stricken. He doesn’t want Lance to get hurt-

But Lance seems to have it pretty much under control. 

He can’t avoid every punch or kick, obviously, but he’s alright at holding his own and Keith realizes that Lance has probably been in a whole load of fights before and so he doesn’t seem fazed, and so when Aiden and Jamie back off, it’s just Lance and Eric Kelly, and they’re staring each other down.

"You’re gonna leave Keith alone," Lance snaps. "Got that?"

"I’ve already said," Eric Kelly snarls. "You can’t fucking tell me what to do-"

And then Lance reaches into his coat pocket and he brings out a knife.

Keith’s eyes rest on the blade. The glint of silver escaping the white handle, and he’s confused. He hears a surprised sound come from Eric Kelly, and Jamie and Aiden just look mortified from behind Lance. Keith doesn’t think he’s ever related to them more.

"Unless you want me to fucking stab you, you’re gonna step away from Keith. Got it?”

Eric Kelly nods, soundlessly.

"Get out of here," Lance sneers. "Fucking cowards."

Lance steps to the side and the three of them leg it immediately.

Lance reaches out a hand, and Keith takes it as he clambers onto his feet.

"I- thanks," he mumbles.

"Who were they?"

"Just some guys."

"Assholes" Lance mutters, before turning his attention fully to Keith. "You alright?"

"I- yeah," Keith nods. "I’m fine."

"Good," Lance says, and he kisses Keith softly before pulling away and frowning at the expression on Keith’s face. "What’s wrong?"

"Lance," Keith says, nervously. "Why the hell do you have a knife?"

Lance looks at Keith, holding his gaze for a very long, solemn moment.

And then he grins, suddenly, letting out a small breathy chuckle.

"Calm down," he says, smoothly taking one of Keiths hands. "I’ve never stabbed anyone. I really don’t intend to, either."

"Then why-"

"Scares off assholes who think they’re tough," Lance smiles.

Keith lets out a breath of relief, and he grins at Lance.

"Oh," he says.

"Yeah," Lance laughs. “It’s not even that sharp, it could barely cut a piece of paper if you tried.” And then he squeezes Keith’s hand, dragging him off somewhere.

The thing is, once Keith gets home and he’s shut himself in his bedroom to evaluate the new bruises forming on his chest and his stomach, panic starts to set in.

Because he’s slipping out of role, and he’s going back to plain old Keith Kogane, and he is dating a boy that carries a knife and, in fairness, why should Lance have to be honest with him if in fact Matt and Pidge are right and Keith really hasn’t been very honest at all?

And then questions start to form:

Was Lance lying when he said the knife was dull? 

Was Lance lying when he said he’d never stabbed anyone?

Was Lance lying when he said he didn’t intend to hurt anyone like that?

Is Lance capable of hurting someone like that?

And maybe it shouldn’t be such a big deal. Maybe knives aren’t such a big deal- after all, Keith holds one in his hand every couple days at dinner and they’re used to cut vegetables and spread jam on bread but-

Then he thinks about those assemblies he’s had every year since he was eleven and that video they always play. The one where you got to see some teenage boy who’d been stabbed and he had some huge gaping hole in his abdomen and he was bleeding horribly.

Thinking about that makes him shiver again. Because Lance is his boyfriend and he seems normal enough, for the most part, really, but similarly that glint of silver is still fresh in his mind, along with the horror in Eric Kelly’s eyes.

There are two questions heavy in Keith’s head right now:

1) Does he really even know Lance at all?

And 2) What the fuck has he gotten himself into?

——--------------

Keith decides, eventually, that he’s in too deep to simply swim to the shore and clamber out of the ocean and so, fuck it, he’ll pretend like everything is just fine

And he reminds himself every morning, that he is in role. He isn’t Keith Kogane, he’s Keith, and he’s Lance’s and he doesn’t care that his two best friends don’t like the person he’s become because maybe he doesn’t like them either-

Keith is also full of shit, and he knows it.

Lance greets him with a small kiss at the school gates. He’s grinning, too, with a light in his azure eyes, but Keith can feel heated glares upon his skin, red-hot. From Eric Kelly and Jamie and Aiden, and he thinks that they might be planning to do something.

And something might mean more silver and the thought of that is fucking terrifying, because Keith is just a kid and he’s got himself into a bit of a mess.

"You okay?" Lance asks, with concern.

"Yeah, yeah," Keith says. "Just feeling a little-"

He wants to say nervous, anxious. Scared, panicky. But then he remembers that Lance doesn’t know that side of him. He’s never known that side of him, only the calm, cool, and collected him. Which never really does exist.

Lance doesn’t know very much about Keith at all.

"Faint," he says, eventually. "Just a bit sick."

Lance frowns and squeezes his hand. "We’ll go out for fresh air and a smoke later, yeah?"

And Keith nods but he doesn’t want to. Because this isn’t him, and he doesn’t want this.

——-

He shakes away the thoughts, and soon it is Friday night and Lance is fucking him into the bed while Keith’s parents think he is sleeping around Matt’s house.

And Keith- he’s pissed, utterly and entirely and Lance’s tongue tastes strongly of smoke and weed and Lance’s pupils are blown.

But that’s okay. And he comes inside of Keith, and his name slips off of Keith’s tongue as Lance grips his wrists, and this isn’t quite the life he thought he’d be living when the future popped up as an afterthought, just a few months ago.

Afterwards, they lie in bed. And Lance’s body is pressed up against Keith’s, and he’s pressing kisses along Keith’s neck, his collarbones, trailing down his chest lovingly.

"Tomorrow," Lance mumbles, and Keith is on the brink of sleep. He feels exhausted. "Tomorrow, we’ve got good stuff…"

"Huh?" Keith yawns, stretching and rolling over slightly so that he ends up with his head pressing up against Lance’s bare chest.

"Allura got coke," Lance says. "It’s gonna be good. Night, Keith."

Keith’s heart just about stops. And he realizes again that he is standing on the edge of a world he has no desire to fall into.

"Yeah," Keith whispers, softly. "Real good. Night, Lance."

—---------

Morning comes, and Lance’s arm is still lightly slung around Keith’s waist.

Lance rolls into him a little, pressing a gentle kiss against his cheek.

"Hey," he whispers.

Keith smiles, and lowers his lips to press them properly against Lance’s. "Hey."

And then the flood of realization hits. And Keith is panicking again because this really was not what he signed up for when he bumped into Lance that one afternoon.

—-----------

They’re downstairs, now, and Lance is lazily buttering a slice of toast while Keith chews at his nails anxiously. He’s sat at the kitchen table and he can’t stop fidgeting, rejecting all kinds of breakfast that Lance’s offered and just sipping at overly diluted orange juice.

He’s having another one of those internal battles with himself. And fragments of Matt and Pidge’s argument are seeping back into his mind-

_"What are you getting yourself into, Keith?"_

And he doesn’t have the answer for that question, because no one knows what the hell Keith is getting into.

_"Well you look like a dick. You’re always lying to yourself, lying about yourself. Would Lance even like you? The real you? Have you ever even stopped to consider that once during this?"_

The truth is, Lance probably wouldn’t.

The worst part of this is when he realizes that, his heart sinks and there’s a strange ache in his chest and he is overcome with a burning urge to kiss Lance while he’s still able to, and he feels this tug at his heart-strings, this little tiny voice in the back of his head- and Keith is unsure whether this is a guardian angel speaking, or a devil on his shoulder- saying that he should do it. Do cocaine, with Lance and the others.

If he does, he’ll keep Lance, for sure. But he’ll also be roaming into territory he never once considered before.

The thing is, he has nothing against people who do drugs. He doesn’t look down on Lance, or any of their friends for wanting this shit. If they want to do it, that’s fine.

But Keith doesn’t want to. That’s the problem.

He swallows, gulps, even. He takes a deep breath, steadying himself.

Lance deserves the truth.

"Lance, I can’t come today."

Lance swallows down his mouthful. "What? But Allura got-"

"I know," Keith says. "I-"

Honestly. He’s about to say it, that he has no interest in drugs, or doing cocaine. That he isn’t going because he doesn’t want to watch his boyfriend do it either. He’s about to admit that he isn’t like Lance, he isn’t as reckless as he makes out to be and he doesn’t want this drug in his system-

Honestly. He’s going to tell the truth- some of it, at least.

Or, he was going to. That really is the truth.

"I didn’t say it last night, because I was half-asleep and just, well, forgot. But some old friends of mine got in touch a few days ago. They want me to go down to city walk with them to catch up while they’re visiting."

Lance looks at him. And for a moment Keith tastes poison, because he feels as if Lance is seeing right through him.

And then he shrugs. "That sucks," he says. "Things are always more fun when you’re there. Can’t be helped though, I guess."

"Y-Yeah," Keith mumbles.

Lance blinks. "What? Did you think I’d freak about it?"

"No, I just-"

"I’m not like that," says Lance, softly, and he dumps his half-eaten toast back on it’s plate, discarded on the counter and he kisses Keith hard on the lips. Kisses aren’t that great in the kitchen early in the morning without the touch of mint, and instead the aftertaste of Lance’s breakfast-cigarette. But Keith breathes a sigh of relief into Lance’s lips and he feels okay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> follow me on tumblr if u wanna be up to date with this and ask questions: dragonaire.tumblr.com


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> BACKSTORY BACKSTORY BACKSTORY !!!! this chapters over a thousand words longer than usual so I hope this is enough for yall to not kill me for next chapter :)
> 
> \--------------
> 
> Heres the playlist for this specific chapter: https://open.spotify.com/user/22zirxjk424obkjxtygy4mamy/playlist/1hSKTravVFSHY39ayGGB38?si=tw92P5ipR1C1LOfqnMGrMQ
> 
> This is the one for the whole fic: https://open.spotify.com/user/22zirxjk424obkjxtygy4mamy/playlist/1bO5F6s0hQhpYVp00YLqbv

Keith gets an 87% on his English paper.

It’s not like that grade is particularly high or low for him, but it’s definitely one of the higher marks he’s gotten back in the last month. If anything, this grade proves to Matt and Pidge (and himself- though he’d never admit it) that Lance is more than just some guy he’s fucking. He knows his shit, not just when it comes to drugs, and to people; he knows school. Knows how to get far not just outside of class but somehow also in class, and that changes a lot of Keith’s perception of Lance.

“Keith!”

He turns around and spots Allura and Lance. An instant smile forms on his lips, and all previous internal monologue thoughts fly out the window, no longer mattering.

Once the two of them catch up to Keith, they exit into the school parking lot together.

“So, tomorrow's the last day of classes, huh?” Allura says, sounding a bit out of it.

“Yeah, after exams you only have a month right?”

And now Keith is confused. Why would Allura be leaving so soon? He gets that she’s a senior and would be probably leaving for college, but he just finds it odd that she hasn’t mentioned leaving up until now. Especially odd since you normally wouldn’t leave until August or September

“Actually I convinced my father on leaving the last week of July instead of the first week. So I guess that’s nice.”

Then she goes silent. 

Lance grabs Keith’s hand then and squeezes it. He looks up at Lance, but he’s just looking ahead and Keith realizes that gesture wasn’t just out of habit, it was for Lance’s own reassurance. Keith hasn’t really seen this side of Lance yet, the torn apart about something so badly that he can’t even speak side of him. There’s something more happening between Allura and Lance that Keith can’t quite place his finger on, so he wants to dig. He really wants to dig, and ask questions, and try to help, but he doesn’t quite have the courage to ask either of them about it. Keith still walks on eggshells around them at times, and right now he feels almost less comfortable talking to them than he did that first time he and Lance hung out. He can also tell neither of them particularly want to talk about, so he doesn’t even continue the conversation despite how many questions he has.

“Alright you two, I have to be at work for three-thirty today, so I have to go,” Allura says stopping at a car. Keith stops with her, which forces Lance to follow suit as she rummages through her backpack, presumably looking for Keys. Keith grips tighter on Lance’s hand, and he gets a light sigh in return.

Then as Allura waves goodbye to them, and clambers into the car, Keith pulls Lance closer to the curb and gathers up the courage to ask “What’s wrong?” 

Lance doesn’t say anything at first. Keith isn’t even sure if he had heard him ask, but as Lance and Keith watch Allura’s car drive out of view he sighs.

“It’s just weird to think that I won’t see her everyday after July. We’ve just- we’ve been inseparable since we were freshman, you know?”

“Yeah,” Keith answers, just trying to squeeze a bit more out of Lance.

Lance grips hold of Keiths hand tighter and pulls him up onto the sidewalk as they begin walking in the direction of Lance’s.

“I don’t know why I’m as upset over it as much as I am, though,” says Lance. Keith watches as he takes a moment of thought. “I guess maybe it’s because I’m taking a gap year next year.”

“Are you regretting taking the year off?”

“Yeah, I think I do regret it. I should have just applied for college like I wanted but-” he cuts himself off with a long sigh.

“I mean, it was your decision to not apply, you know? So you shouldn’t really regret it too much ‘cause you obviously did it for a reason, and knowing you it’s probably a good reason. And it probably only seems like a big mistake right now because of the whole situation with Allura- which by the way I’m very confused about.” 

Lance chuckles, half heartedly.

“Allura’s dad is the dean of the University of London. Like, as in England. So her future has always sort of been set to go out to U.K. and study there. Her dad wants her to move out earlier than school starts so that she can get reaccustomed with the area since her mom and her moved here when she was eight, and she hasn’t been back since.”

“So she’s not coming back once she leaves?”

“No, she’ll be coming back for reading week and the summer vacation,” he answers. 

The way he answers is as if he’s talked about this a million times, like it’s his job. Keith feels like he could try and suggest anything, but lance would just retort back with something, like he had already thought of every single possible solution to this. How many times had he and Allura discussed this?

And then Keith gets it. Lance feels like he’s completely losing her, not just having his time with her cut down. It reminds Keith of when he lost his parents. Even though he still had Shiro, and Pidge and Matt, he still felt completely isolated with no solution. Even though he had friends and other parental figures, he still lost the strongest ones, and that hurt. He can only imagine that Lance feels similarly.

“But that feels like no time when compared to spending every day with someone for four years,” Keith expands.

He gets a nod in return.

“Can I ask why the gap year is affecting this so much?” he questions very hesitantly.

“It’s kind of stupid, really.”

“I’m sure it’s not.”

“I took it off because the college I really want to get into- well there’s something there that I just don’t want to deal with right now,” Lance explains.

“Like what?”

“Just a couple of people who I didn’t exactly last see on a good foot.”

And that’s all Keith gets from him, because not even a second later Lance is talking about going to Hunk’s to hang out. Which is great, Keith loves Hunk, but he also feels like there’s more to this. Lance isn’t giving him the full story, which would be fine usually, Keith always feels like he’s not 100% in the know when it comes to Lance. However the circumstances of this are getting in the way of how he functions right now, and clearly mean a lot more to him than he’s letting on.

\---------------

They arrive at Hunk’s not very long after, and Lance is already back to his usual laughing, carefree self, despite being very clearly torn up ten minutes before.

Keith has already decided to prod Hunk for answers on this, because out of all of Lance’s friends, he feels most comfortable around him and he also seems like the easiest to get information out of. Keith knows that it’s really shitty of him to poke into Lance’s past like this, but he spent the whole walk to Hunk’s convincing himself that it’s okay to do it because he has Lance’s best interests in mind.

“So Keith how’re you feeling going into exams?” Hunk asks as he starts frying a soon-to-be grilled cheese.

“I hate to admit it but I’m not too confident.”

“That’s the feeling of the century,” Lance laughs. 

Keith chuckles along with Lance, but still feels uneasy doing so after seeing him worrying so badly earlier.

Hunk quietly pushes the food around in the pan on the stove, seemingly not paying attention to the comments being made, despite being the one who asked.

“I’ll help you with your English exam if you want? You have it on the twentieth, right?”

“Lance no, you have your own shit to worry about, you don’t have to help me with anything right now, you already helped me enough with the essay,” Keith rambles. 

“I have spare when you have English, if you remember. I have no exam that day-”

Then Lance’s phone rings, and when he checks the caller ID he rolls his eyes with a warm smile

“Sorry, It’s my mom.”

“Tell her I say hey please,” Hunk asks. Lance gives Hunk a thumbs up as he stands up and heads towards Hunk’s backyard to accept the call, but doesn’t leave before saying “I’m helping you study!”

Keith smiles fondly and sighs. This is a side to Lance he likes. The Lance that isn’t just worried about getting high, or fucking Keith into his bed, but instead is joking around, and talking about school. It’s normal.

“Why’d he leave to talk to his mom?” Keith asks Hunk, kind of confused. He doesn’t exactly have parents, but he knows from calls with Shiro and watching Matt and Pidge take calls from their mom and dad that it usually doesn’t take long enough to have to leave the room in order to have a conversation with a parent.

“Have you met his mom?” Hunk laughs.

Keith shakes his head.

“Oh, well, think of a very stereotypical Cuban mother- one that pinches your cheeks, always butts into your life, never stops talking to you. That’s Sofie,” Hunk explains. “She’s the sweetest woman I’ve ever met.”

“And what does that have to do with him taking the call outside?” 

Keith is prodding like he had meant to when he first entered Hunk’s house. He wants to somehow take the conversation to who Lance is trying to avoid so badly, but how the hell is he supposed to do that? Does he just kind of ask blatantly? Or would that look odd for Keith to ask such a specific question?

“Well, Lance and his mom were never really close until a few years ago, so he takes any chance he can to talk to her, to kind of make up for being a shit head child,” Hunk explains, taking his grilled cheese off the stove and onto a plate.

“Why what happened that brought them closer?”

Hunk looks at Keith and takes a bite of his grilled cheese uncomfortably. He hisses, most likely getting burned.

“I don’t know, that’s a long story that Lance should probably tell you, not me.”

“Hunk, I’m sure he wouldn’t mind if i knew why he’s close to his mom.”

“I shouldn’t have ate that so fast,” Hunk says, clearly trying to steer the conversation from Lance.

“Hunk,” Keith whines.

“It’s a lot more than just a reason he and his mom are closer, it also affects why he is how he is now.”

Keith doesn’t push further.

“If you don’t want to tell me that’s fine, Hunk, I’m just kind of worried about him he-” Keith stops himself from continuing. He’s no longer just trying to get information about Lance from Hunk, he’s genuinely concerned now, because if Hunk says that there’s a lot more to this story, then Lance probably has a lot more to him than Keith originally thought. 

It’s odd really, thinking that Lance has things that he’s kept hidden from Keith. Keith spends all his time thinking that he’s the one in the relationship with secrets, but maybe Lance does as well.

“He seemed really upset today about Allura leaving in the summer,” Keith says under his breath. “I’m just not sure how to help him through it.”

“He’s still upset about that?”

Keith nods.

“Damn, he said he had gotten over it.”

Keith shrugs, and watches as Hunk takes a tiny bite of his sandwich.

“Fuck this is just like Emily,” he mumbles into the food.

“Who?”

Hunk just looks at Keith, almost studying his face, trying to decide something, and Keith is visibly nervous about it, playing with his hands under the table in hopes Hunk won’t notice.

“You have to swear to me that you won’t tell Lance I told you about it.”

“Yeah, sure, of course,” Keith nods slowly, sitting up a bit straighter in his chair.

“In freshman year he basically did some really fucked up shit, that fucked him up. His mom had to deal with the worst of it and he just grew a really strong love for his mom after she helped him through it.”

“What did he do?”

“Yeah, I guessed you’d want to know more about it. I should go full on backstory,” Hunk exclaims as he hops up onto his countertop. 

Keith watches him, basically not breathing out of anticipation and nerves.

“Long back story short he dated this guy, Carson, who was a junior, back in our freshman year.”

And that was not what Keith was expecting. To be honest, he was expecting some tragic story about how he almost died, or was kidnapped- all the worst-case scenarios. But he just had a boyfriend- though that is pretty odd, since he had never heard about Lance dating anyone before him.

“They were pretty serious I’d say. I mean, Lance and I have known eachother since we were toddlers, so I could really tell he was crazy about this dude, the same way I can tell he’s crazy about you.”

Keith blushes.

“Carson was a cool dude, like don’t think he was a dick or anything, because from my perspective at least, he was a total sweetheart- his sister on the other hand though…”

Hunk bites his bottom lip and looks out the kitchen window to his back porch. Lance is clearly seen, smiling on the phone while rocking in a large hammock.

“Emily. She had this odd fixation with Lance, I noticed it the second he brought be ‘round to their place the first time for a party. It was very weird and extremely uncomfortable to watch, but Lance and I were both so young and clueless. I don't think he really noticed how weird it was until it was all over, all he noticed was that this pretty senior girl liked being around him,” Hunk explains. “I remember him saying that it was great because if Carson’s family liked him then that was all that mattered. But she almost acted like she was the one dating him.”

“How do you mean?” Keith asks, getting back into that interrogation mindset he came here with.

Hunk shakes his head with a scoff.

“Man, okay, I remember this one time, I think it was the second party he brought me to, she was legit all over him, rubbing her hands up and down his arms, whispering in his ear, playing with his hair. She even gave him his first ever cigarette that night.”

Hunk rolls his eyes.

“Didn’t even give him his own though, she shotgunned and then held the cigarette for him as he smoked. Like how fucking obvious could you get, you know?”

Keith nods, too dumbfounded by all of this to even speak.

“It got to the point where Carson got upset about it, Lance never really gave me super in depth details about what was said, but he said something about how Carson said that Emily was fucked up in all sorts of ways and Carson told him to put a bit more distance between them. Lance thought it was bullshit, well until now I guess. We both did. Like, even though I did get uncomfortable about it, I just thought it was me, I was never the biggest fan of any kind of display of affection for a few reasons, which we won’t get into, but I just brushed it off as me being sensitive because of that. But, boy was I wrong.”

Hunk takes another big bite of his food, watching the ground as he does so, taking all this time to almost compose himself more.

“The whole Emily thing never died down, he even started to hang out with her over myself and our then group of friends. We‘re no longer friends with quite a few people from then because of that, that’s why we really keep to ourselves now.”

Hunk goes quiet again, as if deep in thought now. Keith realizes that this is probably hard to talk about for Hunk, watching someone you’ve known your whole life go through something as hard as he’s making it seem could be nothing less than upsetting.

“How bad did it get?” Keith asks after a long period of silence.

“Oh boy, we’ll get to that. But it really won’t make sense if I don't tell you more of what happened. Just know that you’ll probably feel the need to hug him and never let go after I tell you,” Hunk says giving an awkward smile. “I know I wanted to.”

Keith appreciates Hunk’s attempts at keeping some lightheartedness in this conversation with smiles, but it isn’t exactly working the best. Though he’s sure Hunk knows that and is just doing it for his own sake.

“Anyways, eventually it got to the point where Emily was the only thing he cared about. Carson even came to me crying one day ‘cause he was so upset and thought Lance was leaving him for his own sister. Like, I think that was when I realized something really unhealthy was going on. Carson barely remembered my name that first night we met, so for him to come to me in sobbing, face covered in tears was a big eye opener for me. I hadn’t spoken to Lance for almost two weeks at that point I’m pretty sure as well, so like this was a huge 180 from the last time I had dealt with the whole Emily and Carson debacle.”

 

“I still remember the night he first did coke with her,” Hunk says, looking at Keith for the first time in a while. 

“So Emily’s the reason he got into drugs then?”

Hunk nods.

“It was at another party when it got bad. Lance actually invited me to this once which I was really surprised by since by that point it had been a long time since we hung out outside of school. 

“I’d say that this was a turning point, when he realized she was, you know, maybe not the best for him to be around. But he still spent time with her, I’m not sure why but it was probably just habit at that point, and Carson and him were still fighting pretty bad so I think he may have felt she was the closest thing he could get to being around him.”

“Has he ever talked about- about why?”

“No, he’s never talked about Emily much since it all happened. That’s just the reason I like to give, It also makes it seem less horrible when thinking about how he ended up having sex with her at a party a week after that.”

Keith’s jaw drops.

“Yeah, seems out of nowhere, right? To make it worse though, he and Carson were still together at that point. Lance hates himself for doing that to Carson, but at the time I don’t think he really knew what he was doing. Emily had gotten him to do acid that night, and apparently he had a really bad time with it. Allura has this theory that it wasn’t just acid, but that’s a whole other thing. From the one time Lance explained it to me, he couldn’t really tell the difference of where her hands were. He said one minute she was playing with his hair and the next his dick.”

Keith snorts at that, but feels horrible as he does so.

“You can imagine that Carson ended things without a second thought pretty quickly after that. I have never in my life seen Lance as shattered as he was then. He hated himself to the point where he let his phone die and didn’t charge it for three weeks because he felt that he shouldn’t be able to contact anyone else for fear of hurting them.”

“How did he get over it?”

Keith is pretty worried about this. He distinctly remembers how isolated he was when his parents died, and how hard it was for him to pull himself together. It took him a year full of poster plastered walls, Hawthorne Heights T-Shirts, and a bit of red hair dye to finally come to terms with it like he is now. But the thing that would make Lance’s situation worse is that he partially brought it upon himself, and even though it definitely isn't mostly his fault, he more than likely placed all the blame on himself and just dug the hole deeper whenever he thought about it.

“Allura was actually the one who helped Lance get his shit together after. I’m willing to bet that that’s the reason he’s so upset about her leaving. S’probably because she’s his rock, and he probably doesn’t know what he’s going to do without her after all these years of leaning on her.”

“That makes this worse than I thought it would be,” Keith says, thinking to himself.

“Yeah. He’s pretty much over it now to be honest. Like, you’d think things like acid would be a total trigger for him but he takes it like a fucking champ and is genuinely not disturbed by it anymore. I think the only thing that could get him worried over it again would be to actually see Emily or Carson, but since Carson is travelling abroad in Amsterdam he doesn’t have to worry about that.”

“What about Emily though? Does he have a chance of seeing her again?” Keith asks panicked.

“Not since he’s taking a gap year. It was a smart choice for him, since Emily is a fourth year at his dream school.”

Then it clicks. Of course all of these seemingly random, unrelated issues are popping up for Lance, because they are not unrelated. Allura leaving is reminding him of when he didn’t have her as a stabilizer, which reminds him of what happened with Carson and Emily. And Lance is just over analyzing every fucking thing because he’s upset, so all he can think of are the things that he did because of that whole situation.

“You were right. I do want to just hug him forever.”

Hunk laughs and nods, finishing off his grilled cheese.

“This is also why he hates lying so much,” Hunk adds. “He never told Carson the extent of his relationship with Emily, which is why he blamed himself so heavily for what went down. He used to tell himself that if he had just listened to Carson and put distance between him and Emily, he probably could have avoided all that shit, but instead he lied and pretended to have put the distance. On top of that as well, Emily actually lied about everything to Lance. She just wanted to prove a point that she could get any guy her brother could, which is why Carson said she was fucked in the first place. I heard through the grape vine after this happened that Emily had done the same thing two years earlier with another one of Carson’s boyfriend’s.”

“Holy fuck,” is all Keith can manage.

And now Keith feels like shit, because fuck Lance has been through a lot of shit, and yet he seems like one of the happiest, most care free person. Then again maybe he is now, but nonetheless he’s upset right now about Allura, and this is most definitely a reason behind it.

“You’ve got that right, man,” Hunk says hoping off the counter. “But even though he may be a bit upset about Allura, know that overall he’s fine. He knows he has the rest of his friends, he’s getting work for the next year at his Aunt’s school, and he’s got you now.”

Keith feels a sense of ease when Hunk says that, because, yeah, Lance won’t be left with nothing. Lance has so much more, and even though a gap year is upsetting him now, its allowing a chance for him to save up more money for school when the time does come around for him to go.

“I think he’s coming back now, don’t talk about it,” Hunk says all of a sudden.

No less than a minute later Lance is coming back to the kitchen from the back door. Both Keith and Hunk smile in his direction.

“Hey,” Lance opens with as he shuts the door.

“Hows mom?” Hunk asks.

“She’s worried about me as always, you know by now she never stops,” Lance says jokingly. 

Keith laughs along with him, but he doesn’t want to. After hearing that whole story, and knowing that’s why Lance and his mom are so close, the fact that she’s ‘always worried’ has a whole new meaning.

Keith gives him a hug when Lance gets closer, and makes sure to squeeze tight.

\-----------------

Keith is really starting to realize what a mess he’s in.

He’s finding himself falling behind on study work and he barely makes it to his science exam on time. He turns up with a bruising purple and red mark on the lower half of his neck, his breath smelling of cigarette smoke and bags under his eyes that would make people think he’d been deprived of sleep for weeks. He’s so exhausted that everything he’d spent time on for weeks leading up to his first meeting with Lance just seems to fly out of his brain.

He’s positive that he’s failed by the end of it. He’s never failed a test in his life, let alone a science one. He had always been planning on applying for astrophysics when it comes time for university, and when you say a program is competitive, astrophysics essentially invented competitive. If his Junior year exam marks aren’t high ninety’s like his SAT marks were, then he’s major fucked to get in, and that’s bad. That’s worse than bad, and he hates himself for this.

God, he’s so fucked.

He’s miserable as he leaves the exam hall, and when he’s outside the wind hits his face. It stings a little, but then again it doesn’t hurt as bad as the realization his future is more than likely fucked.

He reluctantly pulls out his phone and it flashes with three new texts, all from Lance.

hey bby good luck on your exam today xx  
I’ll see you later and we can celebrate the completion of one more exam on both our ends  
only 4 more to go !!

Keith scrunches his face up a little bit.

He’s torn. Because he wants to be with Lance, he really likes Lance and since they’ve been together he’s felt more alive than ever before. But similarly, he knows in a way that Lance isn’t good for him. Despite apparently being a complete English wiz, he hasn’t been helping Keith much in his own studies and that’s worrying for him, because that’s something Keith has always had going for him. Ever since his parents died, the only constants in his life have been Shiro, Pidge, Mat, and his good grades. And since Matt, Pidge and he aren’t exactly on speaking terms anymore, if he doesn’t have his grades anymore than he isn’t sure who he even is. Without his grades he can’t really be Keith Kogane anymore, and that scares him.

Which is such a contrast to this last month, he’s spent so much time during these past few weeks trying to perfect his facade of Keith, sure. And has that façade bled into his personality outside of Lance? Sure, but that was fine, because he knew that he’d still be able to be himself around Mat and Pidge (despite the glaring changes VIA his time with Lance). But now, he can’t tell what’s really Keith. Keith Kogane. Now, he’s not even sure if that’s who he wants to be.

\---------------------

Keith’s fucking terrified.

He knew that he had his AP History exam today, but even so, last night he was out driving with Lance until 12am and then he couldn’t sleep for three hours and now he is tired, so damn exhausted, and he has done absolutely no studying, and all previous knowledge of the Napoleonic wars seem to have flown out of an open window. Which is so fucking terrifying, because Matt was the reason he could keep his 92% in the class. Sure, Keith was smart and could always remember most of the content, but Matt genuinely enjoyed it, and therefor made it fun to remember. Ranting about how France was a fucking wreck, and how the German unification was essentially a soap opera made it ten-fold easier to remember the little things.

So, he’s screwed. Because he remembers nothing from before Matt and he had the falling out, and he certainly can’t ask him for help now, and so he’s fucked for this exam, just like the science one but worse. There is no way in hell he can get his predicted 95 today, because he doesn’t even know the ends of the syllabus. This really is not good.

And so here he is, outside of the exam hall with sweating palms and a beating heart for the second time this week, and Eric Kelly is staring at him with an infuriating smirk on his face.

Keith scowls back. He can’t touch him here.

He’s intrigued, though. Eric Kelly doesn’t do AP History, he shouldn’t be anywhere near the AP exam hall at all. So, what the hell is he doing here, when the exam starts in 10 minutes?

Keith shakes the thought of, reaching into his pocket because his phone is vibrating and shit he needs to turn that off; how the hell did he forget to do that?

It’s a text from Lance.

good luck xxxx

Keith smiles. But he doesn’t reply, because he’s switching it off instantly.

The smile doesn’t last; all too soon he remembers that he is about to take a fucking important exam and there is a high probability that he is going to fail.

"Texting McClain, are we?"

Keith looks up, startled, only to meet Eric Kelly’s eyes and Keith glares at him, but this isn’t exactly doing anything good for his nerves. Eric Kelly can’t touch him here, not really, but still- he feels a little less confident when Lance isn’t around. That’s probably pathetic. Keith doesn’t care.

"Why does it matter," Keith regards, trying to sound disinterested

"Yeah?" Eric Kelly raises his eyebrows. "Surely it matters to McClain, though."

"You’re making no sense."

Eric Kelly scowls. "I mean," he says. "Surely it’s McClain’s business- surely I should tell him what’s what?"

"Leave me alone," Keith says, wearily. "I don’t even understand what you’re trying to say."

Eric Kelly reaches forward and he’s gripping on Keith’s jacket collar. Keith lets out a small squeak. He can’t do anything.

"I’m trying to say that I’m fucking confused, Kogane, I’m confused to why McClain is dating someone irrelevant like you and I’m also confused because he seemed to think you fucking owed us something. What? Have you got your boyfriend thinking you’re on drugs or something? Does he think you’re like him and his friends?"

"N-No-"

"Then tell me Kogane- you know? Tell me, then. What’s he doing with you?"

Keith gulps. He’s paralyzed in spot, because how can he possibly answer this when Eric is right How could he say that this is exactly why Lance is with him. That would cause a huge fucking blow up and he can not allow that during exam period. God he’s already fucked as it is right now, he doesn’t need Eric Kelly barging in and asking about his personal life with Lance on top of that. But he stands there still, looking at Keith, watching and waiting expectantly for whatever excuse could come from his mouth for why Lance was with him, but that’s the problem. He’s going to be waiting a while, because Keith doesn’t have a reason for why Lance is with him that’s sufficient enough. What is Lance doing with him? Fucking him, that’s for sure, and smoking with him and kissing him. But emotionally? God Keith has no idea if Lance even does like him beyond a sexual way.

And then, that fuck, the school principal starts to announce the rules of exam, which means the doors are opening soon.

Eric Kelly lets him go then, looking bored, and sauntering away. Keith just about manages to compose himself before the speech is completed and he is filing into the hall with about a hundred other students. That doesn’t mean that his heart isn’t still beating in double time as he instinctively walks to his class’s assigned row, pens in hand.

As he’s walking in, though, he sees Matt sorting through his pencil case at a desk near the front, smiling and laughing with Pidge, who was apparently sitting their environmental science exam. Keith freezes in spot and keeps his head down as he chooses a random seat. It doesn’t really matter where he sits, as long as it's closer to the back, in order to insure he doesn’t have a run in with Matt and Pidge.

\--------------------

Keith feels sick all the way through the three-hour exam.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh my god okay so i didnt mean for this update to have taken a MONTH but heres a story:  
> i wrote the LAST chapter during a 2 1/2 hour car ride from my home to my university and i finished it in a word document , not google docs (first mistake). and i finished it legit 2 minutes away from my res so i just shut my laptop so i could get everything i needed back into my room (second mistake). An hour later and my dad leaves and im done unpacking everything i brought back with me so i whip open my laptop, the word doc is there so i CUT IT instead of copying it (third mistake) and i try to paste it into my google docs cause i keep a folder of all the chapters there but?? to what i remember it doesnt paste because it was too much text?? but apparently i did copy and paste it into ao3 and updated it?? but i dont remember doing that???  
> so ive spent the last month thinking im going to have to retype out a 5k backstory chapter and i was so defeated about doing that so i just kind of avoided it until last night?? i read this LOVELY trixya fic by @mallstars (link at the end) and i was like wow i wanna write. so i checked out my fic and??? there was a chapter 9??? which i was fucking 100% sure i hadnt posted and that it was lost to the void. I start crying bc oh my god i had been stressing myself out over NOTHING but what else is new for me lmao
> 
> so yeah long story short i immediately wrote the rest of this chapter after that discovery so here it is thankyou for reading this if you did
> 
> \--------------
> 
> Heres the playlist for this specific chapter: https://open.spotify.com/user/22zirxjk424obkjxtygy4mamy/playlist/2MCVDfdsSkF1eCZljmFVNZ?si=FgyZahfCSc23OXAUn4dm7A
> 
> This is the one for the whole fic: https://open.spotify.com/user/22zirxjk424obkjxtygy4mamy/playlist/1bO5F6s0hQhpYVp00YLqbv

Keith leaves the hall with a thin layer of sweat lining his forehead and his cupids bow, the palms of his hands clammy. He barely knew the answer to a single question.   
  
It’s as if his brain was divided into two segments: before Lance, and after Lance. The bad part of that however, is the 'before Lance’ is like a zip file and Keith for some reason can’t unzip it, and it’s frustrating. He just can’t seem to access it.   
  
And so his pen had just wiggled across the blank pages, leaving messy and smudged words behind that had no fucking meaning. He’d bullshitted his answers to high heaven, talking about revolutionary France wasn’t something he wanted to or knew how to do. But there is a lump in his throat because good boy Keith Kogane was predicted an easy 95 and he doubts that he has even managed to get a 60.

 

He’s fucking disappointed in himself.   
  
Shiro is going to kill him.   
  
He turns his phone on with sweaty fingers. What he feels he needs right now is one of his most stupid, ridiculous ideas because it is not what he needs at all after that disaster of an exam. What he really needs is an early night and a few hours of study, a cup of tea since he’s off classes for the rest of the afternoon, and he needs a healthy afternoon snack cause he was stupid and didn’t eat breakfast or lunch before the exam, and he really, really needs to fucking study-   
  
Yet he's dialing Lance’s number against his better judgement as he picks up his bag, slinging it over his shoulder.   
  
He needs to study, sure; but what he feels he needs right now is to kiss Lance, and smoke something. Or maybe lose himself and all of his doubts in Lance’s touch if they have sex or something-   
  
Lance doesn’t pick up. And Keith furrows his brow because it’s 3pm and he knows that Lance had a morning exam. He tries again. Then again.   
  
It’s weird, he thinks. Lance always answers, since he’s always on his phone unless he’s asleep.

 

Keith decides to give it a minute and goes to walk out back to the parking lot instead of staying in the school longer than he needs to.   
  
He tries again once he’s outside sitting on a curb. One more time. And thankfully, Lance picks up.   
  
"Hey," Keith says. "Thanks for the text earlier. I’m pretty sure I failed, though."   
  
"Oh," Lance says. His voice is empty and quiet. "Yeah, that’s shit."   
  
"Yeah," Keith says. "Do you want to do something? I’m bored already."   
  
"Can’t."   
  
"Oh…" Keith’s taken by surprise. He sounds clingy and ridiculous, sure, but the thing is that Lance has always made time for him. Always. "Later, then? I feel a bit shit."   
  
"Can’t," says Lance.   
  
There’s a beat. He adds, "gotta study," but it sounds like a second thought to add   
  
Keith considers questioning his bluntness and the fact that he sounds like the Lance who is rude to people he doesn’t like, rather than Lance- Keith’s boyfriend Lance.   
  
But he doesn’t. It’s another reminder that he’s pathetic, tiptoeing around Lance the way that he always does.   
  
"Okay," Keith says. "Um. That’s alright. When are you free?"   
  


“I’m not. I have to go though, bye.”

  
Lance hangs up before he can get another word out, and Keith feels sick.   
  
He doesn’t feel sick because Lance is being short and he sounds angry, or because he’s probably failed his exam. Not even because he hasn’t had enough sleep recently and he feels like shit in general.   
  
He feels sick, first and foremost, because Eric Kelly is standing across the way with a few friends by his side. And his friends, they’re typically glaring and scowling. But Eric Kelly isn’t. Eric Kelly’s smiling, smirking, and he is looking right at Keith.   
  
"Had a few words with Lance," Eric Kelly calls, and he jumps down from the car that he’s sitting on. "He didn’t seem to know much about you. Funny, that. Seeing as you’re all loved up and shit, yet he didn’t even know who you were!"    
  
Keith freezes on the spot. His mouth is hanging slightly open.    
  
Fuck.   
  
"Now, that wasn’t very nice of you, Kogane," Eric Kelly laughs. "Honesty is important in a relationship, ain’t it?"   
  
"I- I am honest," Keith stutters.    
  
"Don’t even," Eric Kelly shakes his head. "McClain barely even knew who you were. What were you trying to do, Keith? Laugh at him?"   
  
Keith shakes his head. That was never his intention, not for one moment.   
  
"Well that’s not what he thinks," Jamie chips in, a little gleeful. Aiden is grinning.   
  
"What do you mean?" Keith croaks out. He’s panicking now, his palms sweating. He doesn’t want to lose Lance.   
  
Aiden shrugs. "We’re your friends, remember?" he say. His voice is mocking. "We were just looking out for you. Looking out for Lance. We just had a friendly chat with him."   
  
"You seemed to have missed quite a few points about yourself," Eric Kelly laughs. "Do you even know who you are?"   
  
Eric Kelly’s not intelligent. He’s a bully, and his words are just for taunting, to hurt Keith. To make him feel like an idiot. Eric Kelly isn’t even thinking about what he’s saying and yet, Keith is. His words hit a nerve, strike something. Because no, Keith doesn’t. He used to be so sure of himself and now he isn’t, and something has changed.   
  
"Trouble in paradise, then," says Aiden.   
  
"I think you might get dumped soon, dude, pity," adds Jamie.   
  
"Fuck you!" says Keith, and the words are out through trembling lips before he even knows what he’s saying. Eric Kelly’s eyes darken, his fists pinch white. They’re going to kill him.   
  
"Don’t even talk to us!" Aiden snaps. "You’re nothing, Kogane. Just a lying little faggot. You are nothing."   
  


“Last time you got away with it because of your boyfriend, but this time I’m pretty sure he’s not going to be here to save your ass.” Eric says getting closer to where Keith is on the curb.

  
Keith’s shaking and trembling as he stands up, lost in thought of spirals of questions. Shit- he needs to see Lance, speak to Lance. He needs Lance.   
  
The first punch shouldn’t come as a surprise but it does. Eric Kelly’s fist collides with his jaw with a crunch and he tumbles back a bit, and Keith tastes metallic blood inside of his mouth.   
  
He’s panicking. His vision is blurry, obscured by tears, and rage. He’s frustrated, and confused, and mostly upset, and he’s fucking had it, officially.

 

So he brings his arm back and thrusts it forward into Eric Kelly’s throat.

 

He trips back at the impact, stumbling back into Jamie. Suddenly Keith is very alert of what’s happening, and is keeping his eyes on the movements of the trio. He anticipates the worst then, knowing very fucking well that he had never dared hit back before and now they are going to attack him with more willpower than they ever had before.

 

“What the fuck?” Aiden exclaims looking at Keith with shock, quickly charging his direction after saying it. Keith moves away quickly from the curb he had sat on before and Aiden follows him. He catches up and throws his left arm for the middle of Keith’s face. Keith panics at the sight and quickly ducks away, kicking his leg out at Aiden’s legs, sending him to the pavement with a loud thud.

 

Keith lets out a small breath in shock and feels paralyzed in his place. 

 

He doesn't like this. He doesn’t like this at all. He’s hated fighting since his parents died and this is fucking awful with everything else racing in his mind right now. All he wants is to go see Lance. Work things out with Lance. Explain everything, and tell him everything, because he doesn’t want Lance to think that he played him for a fool. He didn’t do that. He genuinely likes Lance a hell of a lot, and the current thought of losing him is too much. 

 

Keith looks at the ground and watches blood from his face drip onto the gravel where there was already a few drops. Fuck.

 

Something hits him from behind and suddenly he’s on the ground, his skull hitting the paving with a sickening snap like Aiden had.   
  
It doesn’t stop. It hurts more this time, more than ever, as if they’re trying to beat something out of him. But Keith doesn’t know what, because he didn’t ask to be gay and he didn’t ask to be a loser. His thoughts are all over. Their kicks meet his skin as he just takes it, their sneakers crushing against his ribs in sharp kicks. Keith can almost feel the bruises forming, the skin turning yellow and brown and bruised until it fades into purple and then out to yellow again.   
  
He’s bleeding more now, he realizes, probably from the hard cement below his head and the stones that are digging into his skin and the way that with every kick or hit they are jolting his body in different directions.

 

Keith screams. He screams as loud as his vocal chords allow and for a moment the kicking stops and he takes that chance to pull himself up as much as he can, using the lightpost close to him for support. His vision is blurry and white, and he just runs away from them. He runs like he always has, finished fighting back. He has no more energy to resist anymore, only to hide, and so he does. His feet are taking him somewhere behind the school, too lost in his own thoughts to even hear if they were following.

 

Then all of a sudden he crashes, having tripped on his own fucking feet. But he’s run out of energy. He just lies there, still, and the world around him goes on as it was previously. 

 

He waits momentarily to breathe and listen. For footsteps, for yelling, for anything that would tell him if he had been followed. 

 

There was nothing. So he just pulls himself closer to the brick wall closest to him, using his hands to practically crawl there.

 

Then he closes his eyes, and just sits, a soft breeze blowing on the fresh cuts on his body, stinging him without a reaction.

  
———   
  
"Keith," Lance’s voice is soft, but it’s also flat.   
  
It’s dark. Keith has been lying here, floating in and out of consciousness for a while. He’s okay. He’s far from dead, and they’d barely beaten him to such an extent that he would have broken bones and internal bleeding.   
  
He’s really just emotionally not willing to move from the corner of the bricks that he has tucked himself into. Keith’s brain just shut off after the run in with Eric, which must have been at least a couple hours ago. He feels almost numb to the world. Almost.

 

The main reason he didn’t pick himself up off of the ground, the main reason he just kept lying there- is because of Lance. All Keith has been thinking about, if he even was thinking and not just staring at the sky, was Lance, and all he had done to Lance, because he’s pretty sure Lance knows what’s been going on these past months. He finally wrapped his head around everything Eric and his croons had told him, and he realized what had happened, and so Keith didn’t want to get up.

 

Because getting up was confronting the new reality, and he really didn’t fucking want to do that.   
  
But now Lance is here anyways, standing above him out the back way of the school. Past the gymnasium and just out of view from the teacher’s parking lot, because that’s where they’d got him, and where he didn’t want to leave, for his own mental safety.   
  
But now he’s looking up at Lance anyways, trying to read the expression on his face. There are no street lamps here, not in this place, since it was never meant to be navigated when only the moon is out. So there’s only moonlight that allows light for both of them to see the other. 

 

It shows the tan features of Lance’s face, albeit shadowier, and his eyes, which are big and a cold blue   
  
Not warm, not loving like he’s used to. He just stares.   
  
Keith figures he must look like shit, sitting out in the odd weather the May has for ours doesn’t do you good normally, but his face definitely still has dried up blood from his nose and his arms are fucking wrecked. 

 

He supposes that Lance wants answers. So he straightens himself out a bit more, so that raising his head was easier, allowing Lance to know that Keith knew they were going to talk.   
  
"How’d you know I was here?" Keith asks, croaking the words out. His lips are swollen. He can still taste dirt and blood.   
  
"Couldn’t get hold of you," Lance says. "Wanted to talk to you. No one knew where you were. Didn’t wanna talk to your parents because, well-" he pauses.

 

“My parents are dead,” Keith finishes.

 

Lance’s eyes widen, and then Keith realizes that they had never had this conversation, and he just added another layer to this confrontation he already didn’t want to be having.   
  


“Oh fuck,” is all that Lance says then, looking away as if trying to recalibrate what he was going to be saying.

  
A silence follows, both of them trying to understand what this new knowledge meant for Lance and how it would be effecting Keith. Keith thinks he’s fucked- no, he knows it. This just proves whatever Eric and them had said about how Lance doesn’t even know who he really is.   
  
"Well, I ended up asking Eric and them anyways," he says breaking the deafening silence. "Punched him in the face for you, but from the looks of him you had already done that enough."   
  
Keith gives a weak chuckle. "You didn’t stab him, right?" he asks, his voice light, trying to joke. 

 

Lance’s expression doesn’t change. Keith looks down at his hands, and begins the brush any gravel and blood off of them.   
  
Lance sighs, and Keith sees as he reaches out a hand for Keith to take out of the corner of his eye. He debates it for a moment, because taking the gesture would mean diving head first into the confrontation he had been dreading the last few hours, but he still grabs hold of Lance’s hand anyways, and is pulled up to his feet.

 

He figures he should just get whatever is coming over with, and stop being a baby about it.   
  
"No," Lance says.   
  
There’s another silence as both of them look at the other.   
  
"Look, Lance, I-" Keith’s starting, and he reaches out with bruised hands and scratched fingernails to try and touch Lance again. Lance recoils, pulling away, out of reach. Keith’s heart shatters as he looks away.   
  
"We need to talk," Lance says. His voice is rough. He’s refusing eye contact. "I hate this. I hate all of this heavy shit and I hate talking and I hate confrontation, but-" he pauses. He intakes a sharp breath, drags his fingers through his messy brown hair. "I hate liars more."   
  
Keith’s stomach churns. "I didn’t mean for this to happen," he says, quietly. He feels his throat tighten and he takes a moment to let out a shuddering breath to relax himself. Lance waits quietly for him to continue.

 

"Lying- it was never my intention," he decides.   
  
"Okay," Lance says, still refusing to meet Keith’s gaze. "Come on. Let’s get out of here, I- yeah."   
  
Lance begins to move, and Keith hopes for half a second that he will connect their fingers and keep a hold of Keith, because he feels as if he’s falling.The cuts sting, the bruises ache. He longs for Lance’s touch, soft and gentle.   
  
Lance is walking fast, though. Keith stumbles along, trying to keep up, holding his arms as close to his body as he can both out of longing for comfort and to protect himself from discomfort. Lance doesn’t care. And Keith doesn’t blame him.   
  
As they round the corner to the main parking lot of the school, Keith sees a black van parked diagonally beside one of the few light posts in sight and he sighs.    
  
"Don’t worry,” Lance says dryly, loud enough for him to hear, unlocking the car door with press of a button on his keys “Didn’t steal it.” 

 

"I didn’t say-" Keith starts, but Lance is shaking his head.   
  
"I know. But how do I know you’re not thinking it?" Lance’s voice is bitter as he opens a door and climbs into the driver’s seat. 

 

Keith awkwardly walks a bit faster to take those final steps to reach the van, and clambers into the passenger side, still holding himself as a child would. Lance doesn’t start up the car. They simply sit in the dim school parking lot, taking up nearly three spaces, but Keith doesn’t mention it. The vehicle is warm and softer than the pavement he had been sitting on for hours was, and Keith stares down at his lap.   
  
Lance must be so angry. It’s so obvious because he doesn’t care, and Keith doesn’t blame him, because he’d be the same, maybe worse, if this had happened to him..   
  
"It’s Hunk’s. He doesn’t mind me driving it," Lance explains, breaking the silence just like he had been every time it happened for the last few minutes.   
  
Keith wants to ask if he’s got a license, just to be on the safe side. He doesn’t fucking dare.   
  
"So," Lance says. "Why?"   
  
Keith’s a little surprised. "Why what?"   
  
"Why did you lie to me? You know, about who you were? Make up a whole ton of shit about yourself?"   
  
"I didn’t mean to," Keith says quietly.   
  
"Right," says Lance, his voice heavy with mockery, dripping with sarcasm. "So you just tripped and spewed up a whole fucking life stories’ worth of bullshit?"   
  
"No! It wasn’t like it!"

 

“Well it sure seems like it was, Keith!”

 

“It isn’t,” Keith says again, calmer this time. Lance looks at Keith for the first time since they sat down.   
  
"Okay," Lance says at a much smaller level. "So what was it like?"

 

Keith thinks for a moment, watching Lance’s face for any inclination of what he should say. He doesn’t want to make this any worse than it already is.   
  
"I liked you," Keith decides. "I just wanted you to like me too."   
  
"I don’t like liars."   
  
Keith bites his lip. Pain ripples throughout his mouth from the cuts, but he barely even winces. Lance hates liars. He hates anything that reminds him of Emily, and Keith feels like a much fucking shitter person having this conversation than he would have a week ago. "I know. I don’t blame you. I just-"   
  
"You didn’t even know me at the start," Lance reminds him. "You couldn’t have liked me then. So tell me really, why did you lie to me from the start?"   
  
Keith’s gut twists. Because at the very beginning, it was about- well, popularity, in a way. If he was friends with Lance, or anything more with Lance, he’d be left alone. He could just exist for the final months of this year, and he had been, he got what he wanted. How the hell does he voice that?   
  
But Lance’s looking at him with skeptical, harsh brown eyes. His gaze is a glare, and Keith needs to be honest. He’s been lying too long, and he isn't Keith, he’s  _ Keith _ . Keith Kogane. That’s all he ever was.   
  
"When I bumped into you that time, the day we met," Keith says, slowly. "Eric and Jamie, Aiden… they were just chasing me. They were gonna try and beat me up. They didn’t owe me anything; they just hate me for whatever fuckign reason. I’m a loser, Lance, no one likes me except a handful of people and I’m not cool, and all they wanted to do wasz beat the fuck out of me again. They always used to try," he swallows. Lance’s expression has softened a little; Keith feels his eyes trailing up the bruises and the swelling on his face. "When they saw me with you in the music store, they backed off. So I thought- if me and you, if we were friends, if they thought you knew me and i knew you I thought-” Keith sighs. “No, I knew that they’d back off."   
  
"So I was some kind of bodyguard to you?" Lance asks. "You used me for my reputation? Because you didn’t wanna be fucking hated anymore? You let me fuck you, all because of that? Did you ever even like me?"   
  
"Yes!" Keith insists, desperately  "Oh my god, yeah. Yeah, I did. I was scared of you at first but then I realized how- who you are. And you’re not who I thought you were going to be."   
  
"Who did you think I was?" Lance asks. "Some sort of psycho? Some tough, hardcore kid who no one dared to fuck with? The fucking equivalent of what that Eric Kelly thinks he is?"   
  
"No," Keith says miserably. "I never- I know It’s pathetic, but-"   
  
"You are," Lance says softly. Keith’s heart drops. "That’s the most fucking stupid thing I’ve ever heard in my life."   
  
Keith nods.   
  
"Why did you lie, though?"   
  
"I-" Keith braces himself, taking in a deep breath. "I thought you wouldn’t like me otherwise."   
  
A brittle laugh escapes Lance’s lips. "Let me guess," he says, his voice now flat. "You thought I was a drug pushing dickhead who’d mock you if you didn’t do drugs? Hate you if you didn’t like every single thing I did?"   
  
Keith looks down and his hands in his lap and says nothing.   
  
"Wow," Lance says. His voice is soft. The hurt is evident his tone and the hollow laugh he gives. "Fucking wow, Keith. I’m not like that."   
  
Still, Keith says nothing, throat tightening and eyes becoming sore.   
  
"You still think that, huh?" Lance says, shaking his head. "And let me guess. You never even liked me. So what was that? Every time I kissed you, every time we fucked. What the hell was that if you didn’t want it?"   
  
"I did want it!" Keith insists. "I- honest, Lance. I never faked how I felt about you. How I feel about you. I would never fake something so important."

 

“Okay, so that’s why I just only found out that your parents are dead, then? Because that’s not maybe an important fact that your boyfriend should know?”

  
“It never really came up, I don’t know-”   
  
"And how am I supposed to trust anything you say?" Lance says.   
  
"I- I don’t expect you to."   
  
Lance is silent for a very long moment.   
  
"You know, Keith," he says, eventually. "I never gave a shit whether you smoked or drank or whatever. I wouldn’t have cared if you didn’t want to. I wouldn’t have cared if you didn’t want to have sex with me, or if the car shit bothered you. I don’t care about any of that. I fell for you because of who you were, what you said- not what you did."   
  
Keith tries for a smile. But it’s ripped away as Lance continues.   
  
"But, you know what? I have no idea who the fuck you are."   
  
"Lance-"   
  
"I think you should get out now," Lance says. "I think you should go home. Get cleaned up."   
  
Keith nods. And he can feel tears finally pricking, because this hurts far, far more than any kick to the ribs or punch to the gut.   
  
"Can I- can we talk later?" Keith asks, hopefully.   
  
Lance looks at him for a long moment. "No," he says. "I think it’s best if we don’t."   
  
"Please," Keith mumbles. "Please?"   
  
"Get out, Keith," Lance says, tiredly. "I’ll see you around. Maybe."   
  
Keith climbs out of the passenger seat, a sinking feeling where his heart should be. Lance sends him a long look through the windows as the door slams, his eyes big, and blue, and hurt. He shakes his head, and the light goes off, and he’s driving away into the night.   
  
Keith is left alone, out in the night air, shivering. All cuts and bruises, but none of that hurts at all in comparison to how much his heart aches in this moment. The car disappears around a corner, and the streets are dead for the most part. The street lights will guide his way home, and Keith begins to follow the trail, alone.   
  
Tears fall, and Keith doesn’t even try to hold them back.   


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the really pretty poetic lesbian fic that inspired me even though it has no relation to this chapter: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13081158/chapters/29925540?show_comments=true&view_full_work=false#comment_153991590


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> anyways im an awful person and havent updated in 2 months but im OUT OF SCHOOL now so this will finish within the next two months feel free to bully me if its not done by the end of july
> 
> \--------------
> 
> Heres the playlist for this specific chapter: https://open.spotify.com/user/22zirxjk424obkjxtygy4mamy/playlist/7jNus5GTR9YzjY7TPRhHta?si=GlAetRFPR3CfXYRN0o-0NQ
> 
> This is the one for the whole fic: https://open.spotify.com/user/22zirxjk424obkjxtygy4mamy/playlist/1bO5F6s0hQhpYVp00YLqbv

Keith’s grateful for study leave because it means that he only has to drag his feet over to the school when he has exams, and communication isn’t even really allowed anyway. Still though, even that is pretty painful- Matt and Pidge are still feeling not so great things about him, and he’s had to begin desperately trying to find new, stealthier ways of getting off the school grounds after finishing the exam he goes in to do. Eric Kelly, Jamie and Aiden are throwing him all kinds of unnecessary insults every chance they get and he is officially back to his status of ‘constant target’.    
  
He hates it. But that isn’t to say that he doesn’t completely and utterly deserve it.   
  
Keith’s spent a lot of time moping alone in his room, misery blatant all over his face, and the way he moves about the house. Shiro was concerned at first, but it soon evolved into frustration, and now Keith also has to tiptoe his way around home after doing the same for school.   
  
"For God’s sake, Keith," Shiro sighs. "It’s a nice day. You should go hang with Pidge and Matt!"   
  
Yeah, Keith thinks. I should but I went and fucked that up.

 

He doesn’t say it though.   
  


“Or even any of your other friends? Don't try to lie and say you don't have others because I know you haven't just been with Pidge and Matt this past month.”

 

Okay, Keith thinks. I would If they didn't hate me now.

  
He doesn’t say this either. And if anything he should be making the most of the long amounts of spare time he’s come to acquire by at the very least studying, but instead he’s just wallowing alone in his room, trekking downstairs for the occasional sandwich and to fill up his water bottle.   
  
He’s being pathetic. He knows that, but even so he spends the vast majority of his time miserably chewing while sitting around in pajama pants. He thinks that this is what he deserves. He brought this on himself and had been warned so many goddamn times by Matt and by Pidge that this was a bad idea. That it would make him just as bad of a person as those he was trying to avoid, and look at him now. It fucking happened and the fact that he could have avoided probably all of this mess if he had just listened to Matt and Pidge one of those times, makes him hate the situation even more.   
  
Things aren’t going so well. He misses Matt, and he misses Pidge. He misses Allura and Hunk and Shay, and he misses Lance. He misses Lance really fucking horribly and he can’t believe he actually managed to mess it all up this badly   
  
——   
  
It happens on Friday afternoon. Keith’s been at the school for an hour long study session for math outside of his house. He needed to get out so Shiro would stop harassing him about going out to see people and his eyes are pretty much burning from staring at numbers for far too long.   
  
He’s just kind of wandering listlessly out of the school grounds. The back way, around the edge of the sports fields. He feels a small jolt inside of him, passing by the wall and the slope where he used to sit with Lance and the rest of them, carelessly smoking cigarettes. Staticky music blaring out of dodgy iPhone speakers.   
  
He’d been so happy. Lance had littered bored kisses over his lips, he’d laughed. Nyma had glowered- she was always glowering, or maybe that was just her eyeliner and Allura would tell them to cut the PDA, and Lance would always protest that they weren’t nearly as bad as Shay and Hunk which was definitely true.   
  
Keith would be late to lessons. Eric Kelly would glare, Matt and Pidge would look a little surprised.   
  
There’s an unwelcome pang in his chest as he thinks about Matt and Pidge- he misses them, too. Like fuck.   
  
"Keith?"   
  
He almost has a heart attack at the unexpected sound of his name, whipping around quickly. And, okay- reason says that it isn’t Eric Kelly, Jamie, or Aiden, because there is clarity in the voice and it is far from sounding anywhere close in one of their vocal ranges. Yet he’s still expecting to be punched in the face.   
  
It’s Allura and Nyma, though, and he realizes that voice was Allura’s. Nyma’s messy blonde hair is pulled up high into a ponytail, which shows her face, and makes her seem ten times more intimidating to him. With her full face on view, Keith can clearly see her eyes studying him carefully. Keith gulps. The gut feeling that he’s about to receive a fist to the face intensifies.

 

Allura on the other hand just looks sad. And God he’s sure that it feels worse than the threat of being killed right here right now. She looks the same as always, except the more comfortable outfit she’s wearing compared to the usual extravagant things she wears, and that makes it so weird for him because this isn’t the Allura that acts like a big sister and jokes around, she’s disappointed and clearly angry and that makes Keith uncomfortable. It feels like he doesn’t even know her anymore, like he can’t even talk to her.   
  
He’s not surprised that they’re looking at him with anger, after all, Allura is Lance’s best friend and Nyma has clearly always cared deeply for him. And Keith’s a liar. And Allura- for however nice and hilarious she might have seemed, for however much Keith knows she’s altogether a good person, well, Keith can’t help but think of all the rumours that flutter around the school about Lance and Allura. Then there’s Nyma, who has pretty much been looking for any excuse to hate Keith since they met and now that she has it- well Keith’s not sure what could happen to him.   
  
He thinks of Lance’s knife. He wonders if Nyma or Allura carry one, too.   
  
Keith tries to tell himself that they aren't going to stab him, and he consciously knows that it’s ridiculous that he’s even considering that a possibility, but he cant stop himself from wondering, especially after confirming that Lance carries a knife. 

 

He tries to balance his breath, but he hasn’t seen the two of them in a long while and it’s no question that what he did to Lance, and all of them, is something of common knowledge now, so it’s only a question of how they handle things on what’s about to happen.

 

Keith hopes they just walk away and don’t pay him any mind.   
  
"Hi," Keith says, weakly.   
  
"I thought your year is on study leave?"  Allura says, sounding a little confused. As if she and Lance were hoping like fuck they wouldn’t have to see Keith’s face around here. That sort of hurts.   
  
"We are," Keith says. "Um. I came in to study- to get out of my house."   
  
"Right."   
  
"Um. You?"   
  
"Had an English exam."   
  
There’s a nervous pause stretching out between them. Keith shuffles awkwardly, not quite wanting to walk away because he’d feel rude. He can’t help but remember that Allura has english class with Lance, and he nearly stops breathing when he realizes that means Lance is on school grounds right now. A bird screeches somewhere in the distance, and Keith stupidly jumps at it and looks up right at the wrong moment and his eyes meet with Allura’s.   
  
Allura isn’t glaring at him, though- and Keith hasn’t been punched. Maybe things are looking up.

 

“I’m gonna go,” Allura says, still holding her gaze with Keith. She just looks confused.

 

“Allura,” Nyma begins, grabbing her wrist as if to tell her to stay.

 

Allura just looks Nyma in the eyes and is let go of almost instantly, then as if she hadn't even gave Keith a second look before, she’s gone.   
  
"Lance told us what happened," Nyma says, as if trying to explain Allura’s disappearing act. Maybe Keith’s delusional; maybe Nyma’s voice is slightly softer that he’s used to hearing.   
  
"Oh," Keith just about squeaks. "Right."   
  
Nyma rakes her hands through her hair as Keith watches, practically paralyzed in place as she pulls at the elastic band that’s holding all her hair up. "Look, I’m- why don’t we sit down, kid? I kind of wanna talk to you."

 

Keith lets out some type of disgruntled noise at the proposition. He feels as if the air around him is shattering into a hole underneath him where he can no longer access it to breathe. What the fuck. Now suddenly he’s all too aware of his breathing and the patterns of it that he is having trouble keeping up the longer he holds eye contact with Nyma. What the fuck.   
  
"Okay," Keith says. 

 

He’s unsure of the reply as soon as he says it. Even though he doesn’t think it’s much of a good idea, considering Nyma has spent their entire knowledge of one another glaring at Keith, he doesn’t feel like saying no. Maybe it can be chalked up to general fear of Nyma and what she could do with him, but it could also be that she isn’t glaring, and for once has an aura of someone Keith wouldn’t hate to talk with. She’s just here. She’s here completely separate from whatever gripes she had had against Keith at one point; she only has new problems with Keith now, not old ones. It hits him then that perhaps Lance wasn’t the only one hurt and confused with his lies.   
  
Nyma walks a little ways in order to sit on one of the middle steps of the bleachers near them, and Keith awkwardly chews at his fingernails. He’s not even a nail biter, he just isn’t sure what the hell to expect out of this. No matter how inviting Nyma seems now compared to her usual self that Keith always saw, he doesn't actually know how inviting she will be. 

 

As he approaches the bleachers he sees her pull a lighter out from down her shirt in order to light the cigarette that she has in her mouth.

 

He kind of wants to join Nyma and smoke. But that’s not him, that was just another lie.   
  
"Right, so. According to Lance,"  Nyma begins, pausing once her light works and she takes a drag. “You’re a piece of shit lying little cunt who’s the total scum of the Earth."   
  
The words strike Keith hard, stopping him from sitting with her as he takes it in.   
  
Hastily, Nyma adds, "his words, not mine."   
  


Keith lets out a long, shaky breath, and places his hands on one of the wooden benches to ground himself. He wants to cry. He wants to just sit and sob for an hour so badly, but he knows that he can’t; knows it will only make a bigger fool out of him than he already is.

  
Keith swallows. "Okay."   
  
It’s as if Nyma can see that her words have only made things worse. She sits up as little as she can in order to sit down on the seats one row above, making it easier for Keith to sit- which isn’t as nice as it was probably meant to be because he gets a whiff of smoke in his face.

 

Nevertheless he can not afford to be rude in any way, and he shoots a half smile in her direction as he takes his place right where she sat before, and stares out at the football field.   
  
"Look," she says. "Lance was angry and upset, and- well, you obviously know why, right?"   
  
Keith nods. "I know I shouldn’t have done what I did."   
  
"Good. That makes this so much easier, ‘cause, well, yeah- you shouldn’t have. It was pretty fucking shitty of you."   
  
"I know."   
  
"But, like-” Nyma stops herself, and lets of a loud groan. “He really liked you Keith."   
  
"No, he likes-" Keith mumbles. "He liked  _ Keith _ ."   
  
Nyma looks confused. Keith can’t be bothered to explain the inward character changes and multi-roles that occur in his head, so he just shrugs, turns around to face her better, and mutters "never mind."   
  
"Either way. I’m sure you’re not that different to who you were lying about being?"   
  
"I don’t smoke and I don’t do drugs, and I’m not any of the things I told him or you guys that I was."   
  
"Right, yeah," Nyma agrees. "But that’s my point, dude- smoking and drinking and that shit, that’s not who you are, right? It’s not who any of us are, it’s just what we choose to do. So really, you just lied about what you do, not who you are."   
  
"And do you really think that Lance is gonna care about that?" Keith asks. "Doesn’t matter what I lied about, in the end I still lied- he hates liars."   
  
"I know," Nyma sighs. "He really fucking hates them. Like a lot. More than he hates Selena Gomez."   
  
"Brilliant," says Keith. He wants to cry.

 

“Okay, out of hope that telling you this will somehow help that fucker- his whole ‘I hate liars’ schtick isn’t as deep as he and everyone else makes it seem.” 

 

Keith raises his eyebrows and sits up a little straighter at that.

 

“What do you-”

 

“Do not make me regret talking to you right now by asking anything please, or I might just fucking lose it.”

 

She doesn’t sound snappy, or scary. She just sounds exhausted. Keith nods.

 

“Lance is a bit of a drama queen at times. And I’m not discrediting his past or his reasons for how he deals with things, but God, he makes it sound like he’ll crucify anyone who even gets one number off when telling a story”

 

Keith nods in agreement with that, thinking of all the times before they had spoke that Keith thought Lance would kill someone in the school halls for lying about how much weed he was getting for his money’s worth, or something else of the sort.

 

“Just try to not freak too much about him hating you forever because you lied. He’ll get over it eventually. He always does.”

 

“But he hates me right now,” Keith whines.

 

“Well yeah it’s barely been a week, asshole. Just trust that he’ll get better about it with time. I don’t know how much you know so I don’t know how much I can explain without completely overstepping but…”

 

Keith contemplates if he should tell her that he knows about Lance’s ex and Emily and that whole fiasco. If he should tell her and let her tell him everything she wants to without questioning if she can.

 

“Yeah,” Keith decides.

 

It’s probably best if he doesn’t bring up Emily, he chooses.

“How long of a time do you think it’ll be until i can talk to him again?”   
  
Nyma gives him a sympathetic look. "I pity you dude, I really do, but a while. Maybe there’s still hope that he’ll get over it in like a month. A chance of that?"   
  
Keith looks up hopefully. "You think so?"   
  
Nyma tries to hold the smile on her face, but it fails, and her expression lapses back into a pitiful frown. "Uh, no. I was just trying to make you feel better.”

 

“Really?” Keith blurts out before thinking about it.

 

“Yeah man.”

 

“But…” Keith can’t find the words to explain why he’s confused.

 

“Dude, I don’t actually hate you as much as I know you think that I do. Lance brought it up to me last week that I should maybe tone down the passive aggressiveness I supposedly had toward you, so, this was me trying to do that without having to actually acknowledge that you’ve gone these past months thinking I hated you- spoiler I didn’t, though you pulling this stunt almost made me hate you.”

 

“Almost?”

 

“I don’t think you’re a bad or a fucked up dude, I just think you did a bad, fucked up thing,” Nyma says, flicking her cigarette ashes off the tip before taking a long drag.

 

“That’s-” Keith contemplates for a moment. “That’s nice to hear right now.”

 

“Yeah, thought it would be. Lance has been no use to try and reason with, so I figured when I saw you, might as well give it a shot at convincing you to mend things a bit.”

 

“And is there a chance?”

 

“Huh?” She hums confused.

 

“At mending anything. Between Lance and I?”

  
“Oh, I mean, there’s a chance, I guess. Maybe."   
  
"Okay," Keith says. "Nyma. Be straight with me, on a scale of 1 to 10- and give me your best guess. You’re one of Lance’s best friends, so you’ll be able to actually know my shot. 1 to 10. What are the chances of Lance ever just even speaking to me again?"   
  
"Um,"  Nyma considers. "Depends how much he likes you, man. Which was a lot from what I could tell. So maybe- if he’s in a good mood, and leaves his dramatics behind, and is feeling generous- 3. Maybe."   
  
"That’s better than nothing, right?" Keith says, a little desperately to himself.   
  
Nyma nods. "Definitely. Then again, that’s if he’s in a good mood and not being a dramatic whore. Which, since he found out that you fucked him over, he has been the opposite of. He’s been fucking miserable without you. Seriously, he’s just moping. Not laughing, not wanting to get high. Nothing. S’kind of depressing to watch."   
  
Keith bites his lip. He hadn’t even considered the possibility in the beginning that Lance would be hurt. His stomach lurches- in this moment, he hates himself. And not because Lance thinks he’s a 'piece of shit lying little cunt who’s the total scum of the Earth’, and not because Lance is refusing to talk to him; no, but because he’s actually hurt someone who for a while, in Keith’s eyes, seemed almost unbreakable. Someone who he has come to really, really care about.   
  
"And what are the chances that he’s in a good mood?"   
  
"I hate to break this to you," Nyma says, stubbing her cigarette out with her foot on the muddy wood between them. "But probably negative 1."   
  
"Right," Keith says. He sort of wants to cry again. He levers himself up onto shaky feet, fully prepared to go home and bury himself in a cocoon of duvets for sixteen hours. He hopes Shiro bought more peanut butter and tea- he’s going to need it. "I’m, um, I’m going to go. Thanks. For you know, not- yeah."   
  
Nyma nods, shrugging, and Keith begins to slope off.   
  
"Keith?" she calls moments later, and Keith looks over his shoulder. The expression on Nyma’s face is conflicted, her teeth digging into her lip. "I think you should try and talk to him."   
  
Keith doesn’t say anything, only meekly smiles at her. He just carries on walking.   
  
—–   
  
Not everyone is as forgiving as Nyma, of course. He walks back through to the main exit of the school, the front gates, needing to get away from negative 1 odds and so many regrets. And of course, the seniors are stood outside, laughing together about some shit exam. Waiting for someone to show up so they can go do something.   
  
Get high, get drunk. Drive into the middle of the city. Smoke, laugh, breathe, live. Keith used to be a part of that. Not anymore.   
  
They notice him, though. He catches their eyes following him. Allura’s glowering- though in a much more emotional way than the others. And Hunk’s actually sort of glaring at him, which is the worst thing Keith thinks he has ever experienced. Coran’s got his arms folded, refusing to look at him. Keith remembers the time they’d sprayed up a beat up old car, and Coran had accidentally stained Keith’s t-shirt luminous red and they laughed for far too long.   
  
Shay just refuses to look at him- and that hurts, too. Lance’s eyes are downcast. He wasn’t laughing when Keith arrives. He’s still not laughing as Keith all but runs through the iron gates, vision glossing over.   
  
—-   
  
It’s later that night, when he’s curled up in his bed. He’s moping again, and he despises himself for it because he really isn’t the one who has gotten off the worst in this scenario.   
  
But he’s thinking over his conversation with Nyma. About how he should talk to Lance. And it’s making him think.   
  
That in itself is not a good thing, probably. Keith’s thought process is a little weird.    
  
He’s not thinking about Lance, either; his eyes are trailing over old photographs taped to the walls, and he’s staring down over a decade’s worth of friendship with Matt and Pidge, and just on his little imagery college upon his wall, he is watching them grow up together all over again.   
  
He was wrong to abandon them for Lance. Really wrong. And he was wrong to treat them like shit and fight with them and pretend to be something he wasn’t, even when he was around the people who knew him the best.   
  
It’s time to stop moping, he decides, biting down on his lip and checking the exam schedules to make sure that he, Matt and Pidge are all free tomorrow morning.    
  
He may not be able to change things or make anything right with Lance, but perhaps Lance shouldn’t be his first priority. Maybe he needs to get his friends back first.   
  
His eyes roll over another photograph. Aged nine, painted faces.   
  
He’s sure as hell missed them.   



	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> truly iconic that im updating at a reasonable time after the last update. wow. summer really changes a person.
> 
> \-----------------
> 
> Heres the playlist for this specific chapter: https://open.spotify.com/user/22zirxjk424obkjxtygy4mamy/playlist/0YbUnwamlZJnXu8HupeMF6?si=9eXtnRT4SWCi0X51oOS5ng
> 
> This is the one for the whole fic: https://open.spotify.com/user/22zirxjk424obkjxtygy4mamy/playlist/1bO5F6s0hQhpYVp00YLqbv

Keith wakes up Saturday morning and already feels like something is sitting on his chest. His head is spinning with so much already and it is not helping solidify going to see Pidge and Matt.

He eventually rolls himself off of his bed and to his feet, trudging downstairs to make himself a peanut butter sandwich.

“Hey there, Keith,” Shiro says from the living room as he’s getting a knife out of the drawer. 

Keith hums back in acknowledgement, not really in the mood to be broken from his thoughts and have another one of  _ those _ discussions with Shiro.

“Any plans today?” 

Keith hears Shiro walk into the kitchen and lets out a loud breath, while looking at his soon to be food on the counter.

Keith realizes keeping to himself until he leaves is not an option Shiro is allowing.

“I don’t know,” he replies, trying his best to keep this short.

“Oh, let me tell you about this guy who I work with. He has been the absolute worst- complete douchebag,” Shiro begins.

The Matt and Pidge situation really is stressing him out. He just doesn’t want to fuck things up any farther than they already have been, and with his recent track record of explaining his actions, his chances of reconciling things with the two aren’t looking the greatest. Keith knows the both of them are open minded and forgiving as long as neither of them were unsafe, and as far as keith’s knowledge goes, he hadn’t put either of them in any kind of danger, so they should in theory forgive him for being a head ass, yet that doesn't ease his anxiety at all. Along with those thoughts, ten more reasons why they would still hate him rise up above his reasoning.

As Keith half pays attention to Shiro’s story, he continues to repeat the motion of spreading peanut butter on bread, despite not needing to anymore. The sandwich is done. It’s been done for a minute now, yet Keith cant bring it on himself to stop. 

Shiro eventually takes notice.

“Is there something wrong?”

“No nothing’s wrong, just,”  _ fuck.  _ He freezes on what to explain here. Why hadn’t he just stopped at there’s nothing wrong, and feel it was necessary to continue the explanation. It isn’t necessary.

“Just, uh, more stressed about exams than usual,” Keith says. 

He figures that he couldn’t tell Shiro about going to see Matt or Pidge without being questioned ‘why now?’ so he goes for the next best thing, and hopes he isn’t seen through. Being stressed about exams is not by any means a lie, it’s just not the whole reason something’s wrong.

But that’s better than making up full on excuses that are formulated. He’s done with doing that, he doesn’t feel good doing that.

“Oh!” Shiro exclaims. “I forgot it’s exams now, I’m so used to exams being in April at this point.”

Keith feels a bit less tense as Shiro accepts his excuse and finally closes his sandwich, and taking a bite. He turns to look at Shiro finally.

“Yeah, I’m going to go to the school again later today to study out of my room, if that’s okay?”

Shiro nods. “Yeah, of course, just be home for dinner, or text if you won’t be. You know the deal by now.”

Keith nods back and decides that he can leave the conversation now, so he heads for the stairs.

Keith decides he can tell Shiro about Matt and Pidge once it’s over.

\--------------

Keith’s nervous, standing outside of Matt and Pidge’s house with butterflies constricting his throat and shivers creeping up his spine.   
  
The thing is that there is no guarantee they’ll forgive him- this isn’t High School Musical, and not everything can be worked out with an apology after the climactic breakdown. His hand pauses, just inches away from the doorbell, his fingers out and ready to press, but he doesn’t. Because they could both just easily turn him away, send him away from the doorstep and disband over a decade’s worth of friendship- that is, if Keith hasn’t already done that himself.   
  
His eyelids flutter shut momentarily, and he lets out a breath, and then he’s quickly pushing his thumb down on the golden bell and waiting.   
  
And- that’s what he does. Stand for a few moments, shivering because weather has betrayed him yet again, and there’s a drizzle falling from a downcast grey sky, and it’s fucking cold for mid to late June. And he waits.   
  
The door opens a few seconds later. And there is Pidge, their hair messy, clad in a tank top and pokemon pj pants that engulf their body because of how big they are and how small Pidge is. They look essentially the same as they had last time Keith was here even though so much has changed and that’s sort of comforting.   
  
“Keith?” their voice sounds surprised, and their facial expression mirrors that. Not angry. Keith twists his fingers together, hoping that Pidge doesn’t think that he’s only here because of his break up with Lance. He couldn’t handle that- he’s come here because it’s taken a while and he’s at last realized that he’s been in the wrong. He’s come here because the three of them have been best friends since he knew what a best friend was and that it couldn’t just be Shiro and him.   
  
And, loneliness may have been the catalyst in one way or another; but not because Matt and Pidge are second best to Lance. Loneliness- it gave him time to think, time to brood and be teetering with his old edgy emo self once again, sulking by himself like he had when his parents had died. His conclusion after all of that is that he, Keith Kogane, is an asshole.   
  
“Um,” Keith says, and he tries for a smile. “Hi.”   
  
“Hey,” Pidge says. Rain is still pouring, hammering down at the concrete steps inches behind Keith, scarcely missing his hood. “Do you want to come in?”   
  
Keith nods. “Please,” he murmurs.   
  
Pidge stands back, allowing Keith to tentatively step inside. He’s shivering, his arms ridden with goosebumps- that’s more from fear, though, not being cold.   
  
He must look like the epitome of pathetic.   
  
He slides out of his runners and unzips his hoodie, before following Pidge up the stairs, into their bedroom and it seems to all happen in a split second. Everything looks so damn familiar, and Matt’s guitar is against the wall like it always had been since his room was the smaller one so a guitar didn’t fit and it makes Keith’s heart sting while simultaneously making him smile wide to know that they’re still best friends, and as close as ever.   
  
“So,” Pidge says, eventually, when they’re both sitting on his bed as they have so many times before with this tension heavy in the room. “Why are you here?”   
  
“I wanted to say that I’m sorry,” Keith says. “To each of you separately.”

“Well lucky you, Matt's out with mom right now so you dodged a bullet.”

“Oh.”   
  
Pidge looks at him skeptically. “Did you and Lance-”   
  
“Yeah,” Keith says. “We broke up. But that’s not why I’m here. You guys are my best friends and I’ve missed you so much, I just- I was an idiot.”   
  
“Correct, you were,” Pidge’s eyebrows are raised. “Go on.”   
  
Keith sighs. “I know. I know what I did was ridiculous and I was one of those dicks that just forgot everything for a hot boy and- you were right, he didn’t know me and now that he does, he doesn’t want to. That’s my fault, I know.”   
  
“Lance found out about the lying?” Pidge’s voice is softer, now.   
  
“Yep,” Keith says. He strains a smile. “But that’s not the point. I’m not here to talk about and sulk about Lance. It’s just- it might seem like I’m only here now that I’m single and Lance won’t talk to me. I’m not. The fact is, I was so blinded by being liked and admired and- safe from being a target that I forgot about my friends and what really made me happy and that was so, so shit of me. And I realized that while being sulky for the last like two weeks, but now- I’m back to being me. And so I hope you might be able to not hate me anymore and forgive me.”   
  
Pidge is silent for a very long moment, silently studying Keith with a thoughtful gaze. Keith sits, too, avoiding those eyes, staring at Pidge’s floor with clothes and books and GameCube game’s strewn haphazardly everywhere. And he studies his jeans, the black denim over his thighs, and his bitten fingernails.   
  
And then the silence is broken, and Pidge is flinging their arms around Keith and hugging him close. Keith splutters with the surprise of it all, but he’s soon grinning and clinging to Pidge. Happy.   
  
“I never hated you, I’ve missed you,” Pidge says. “Please don’t turn into an asshole again.”   
  
“Won’t,” Keith mutters. “I promise.”   
  
“You should stay tonight,” Pidge says. “Matt and I were gonna order in and try to study for bio.”   
  
“Really?” Keith bites his lip, tentatively. He doesn’t know how Pidge is actually forgiving him- he probably wouldn’t forgive himself.   
  
“Yeah,” Pidge says, the smile on their face small. “You should probably call Matt first, though. Just to make sure everything’s alright between you two.”   
  
Keith nods. “I’ll do that now. I should go home first though.”   
  
“But come back later, yeah?”   
  
Keith smiles weakly. He’s done with rebellion. “I’ll have to ask, but yeah.”

“Oh and bring your 3DS, I trained up a new pokemon team while you were dicking around that can kick your Charizard Y’s ass into a different game.”

“I’ll be sure to bring it.”   
  
\----------------------   
  
The walk home is pretty horrible, but that’s first and foremost because Keith’s so nervous.

It stopped raining while Keith was with Pidge, and so he at least doesn’t have to worry about getting soaked and changing into new clothes once home.   
  
Matt has every reason not to forgive Keith. And just because Pidge did, it doesn’t mean that by default Keith is going to have both of his best friends back.   
  
Because falling out with Pidge- that was probably the result of short tempers and the fact that Pidge isn’t really one to take shit. But Matt, he acted as the peacemaker one too many times, and Keith just shoved that back in his face.   
  
Matt deserves a far better friend. He’d tried his best not to get involved, and to look after Keith- to make sure he didn’t get into anything bad. All he’d done was advise and watch with obvious disdain, and Keith’s really let him down.   
  
He’s restless as he walks down his street.Chewing on the ends of his dampened sleeves, toying with moving his weight from foot to foot, unable to keep still.   
  
It’s Matt’s mother who picks up his phone.   
  
'Keith?’ she says, sounding a little surprised. Keith isn’t fazed by this- he hasn’t spoken to her since around the time he’d met Lance, and he used to be a frequent visitor to her kitchen.   
  
'Hi, Colleen,’ Keith says, sheepish. 'Um. Is Matt there? Why are you answering his phone’   
  
'Yes, yes,’ Mrs Holt says. 'He’s right here. He was just putting the groceries in the car for me and asked me to answer for him is all.’   
  
'Matt!’ he hears her call, her voice shrill. Keith winces and smiles, because the way that Mrs Holt’s voice cracks when she’s shouting in a particularly high pitched voice is the key to unlock a thousand childhood memories. That time they had a water fight in the back garden, but ended up collecting damp handfuls of oozing mud and hitting each other in the face.   
  
All that is heard from the other end of the phone is a lot of tumbling and wind.   
  
Keith’s wanting to hang both himself and the call right now, basically. But he hears the thud of the phone hitting something, and all too soon Matt’s voice is coming through his phone.   
  
“Hi,” he says.   
  
“Hey,” Keith replies awkwardly.

He goes to sit down on a bus stop bench, just outside of his neighbours house. He’s not quite sure he should have this phone call where Shiro could hear it.

“Did you want something?”   
  
Keith nods, then realizing he's on the phone, he sighs.

“Yeah, uh, was wondering if you wanted to meet up? Talk maybe?”   
  
“How about you come back to ours, Keith?” Mrs Holt suggests, clearly being able to hear the call. “I’m making lasagna tonight. It’s been ages since we’ve seen you- I’ve missed cooking for you.”   
  


Lasagna. That’s why Pidge said they were ordering in, Matt and them hate their mom’s lasagna- too much meat and not enough cheese, apparently.

  
“No,” Matt says. “We’ve got…. stuff to work on. Revision.”   
  
“I’m not hungry,” Keith politely declines. He is, but he knows he needs to talk to Matt in private, and away from Pidge. “But thank you anyway.”

There’s a long silence on both ends of the phone for a moment.

“Maybe you could just drop me off at Keith’s?”   
  


\------

 

It's barely ten minutes after he gets home that Matt shows up at his door.

It's kind of awkward, with both of them just nodding at the other, until Keith waves to Mrs Holt in her car, she drives away, then he steps back to allow Matt to step inside.

He feels heavy.

His mind is racing with over fifty different ways that this talk could go, most of them, Keith admits, are not in his favour.

  
Matt follows him up the stairs, and Keith is silently thanking every divine thing in the universe that Shiro is in the backyard, not wanting to have to endure questions. The feeling that every inch of his own house suddenly holds memories is enough right now, from playing cops and robbers and the floor is lava in the living room and passing out in the hall to that time they stole Matt and Pidge’s Dad’s alcohol when they were thirteen and came back here.   
  
Matt closes the door behind him once they’re both in his room- which is the opposite of Matt’s he’d assume. There's clutter anywhere, his bed isn’t made, books strewn open across his floor, and there's cups scattered around the room, some empty some full. Typical Keith, but he feels so much more critical than he would have months ago.   
  
“So what exactly am I doing here?” Matt asks. He makes no effort to hide the tint of hurt in his tone. “I thought you hated me. And Pidge.”   
  
Keith’s eyes widen in surprise. “No, I never hated you! I thought you hated me-”   
  
“Don’t be stupid,” Matt says. “We were best friends for too long for me to hate you over some shit with Lance.”   
  
“Good,” Keith says, and he sighs in relief. “I just. I wanted to tell you how sorry I am.”   
  
Matt raises an eyebrow. “Yeah?”   
  
“Yeah. I treated both you and Pidge like shit, and I honestly despise myself for it. I was horrible.”   
  
“It’s understandable,” Matt shrugs.   
  
“That doesn’t make it okay, though.”   
  
“No, it doesn’t.”   
  
There’s a short silence, broken by Keith moments later. “Fuck, Matt- I’m so sorry. I was a dick, and I’ve spoken to Pidge already, and I’m so sorry. And- look. Me and Lance have broken up now, but I swear to god that’s not the reason I wanted to talk with you. You guys aren’t some strange second best. I think I just needed time away from everyone to realize who was actually the fuck up and I realized pretty soon that it was me.”   
  
“I know we’re not your second best,” Matt says. “You just forgot what was going on around you for a while.”   
  
He smiles, and Keith can trace the sympathy, and he only hates himself more.   
  
“Can you forgive me?” Keith asks, tentative. “I understand if not. And Pidge has asked me over tonight but if you don’t accept my apology- which you have every right not to- I won’t come and it’ll be okay. I don’t deserve your kindness-”   
  
“Keith?”   
  
“Yeah?”   
  
“Shut up,” Matt is grinning, shaking his head fondly. “You haven’t changed at all, you over thinking idiot.”   
  
“I’ve missed you,” Keith admits. “A fucking lot.”   
  
“I’ve missed you too,” Matt says. “And I’m sorry about Lance-”   
  
“Don’t be,” Keith sighs. “I deserved it, completely and utterly.”   
  
“Still though. Despite everything, you seemed good together.”   
  
“Yeah?”   
  
“Yeah.”   
  
Keith gives Matt a small smile. 

“Are we too old to hug it out?”   
  
Keith shakes his head, grinning. “We’re never too old to hug it out.”   
  
Keith grasps Matt tightly, pulling him into a hug, and fuck he’s missed this. He’s missed his best friends more than he’d even realized at the time.   
  
“So you’ll be at ours tonight?” Matt asks- and they’re still hugging tight, not letting go of each other.   
  
“I wouldn’t miss it for anything,” Keith says.   
  
\--------------

Shiro was more than happy for Keith to go to Matt and Pidge’s. It was almost sad how happy Shiro seemed that his brother was actually going to talk to someone and be around anyone other than himself. So after packing his school bag with his laptop and DS Keith and Matt left.

Pidge cheered when Matt and Keith walked into their room together, and now the three of them just fall back into their old routine. They get Indian food, and study for their bio exam that’s on monday- or, it’s more like Pidge and Matt give Keith a lesson on everything they learned this year. Either way though, Keith feels confident in this exam, which is a first this year.   
  
Matt is sitting on Pidge’s bed and he’s stuffing his mouth with his butter chicken, watching Pidge and Keith battle. Pidge is sprawled out on the other end of the bed, kicking Matt occasionally with their feet. Keith’s on the floor, facing Pidge.   
  
It’s sort of MattAndPidgeOhAndKeith again, but Keith really does not mind. He’s got his friends back, and that is literally all he cares about right now. That and beating Pidge’s god forsaken Kingdra.   
  
It feels like old times. They’ve been playing video games and eating too much and not drinking or doing anything like Keith had become accustomed to. And now it’s drawing close to 2am, and they’re still awake, still drinking energy drinks because all three of them are sort of ridiculous.

Pidge wins the battle, knocking out Keith’s greninja, and Keith decides that that’s the only thing that has changed- Pidge’s competitive pokemon team.   
  
"I’m sorry about Lance," Matt says while Keith it putting his 3DS back in his bag. And Keith is a little confused, as it’s sort of come out of nowhere.   
  
"It’s okay," Keith says, shrugging. “I’ve sort of gotten used to it by now.”   
  
"Can I ask what happened?" Pidge asks, tentatively, switching the game in their 2DS. "I mean, you don’t have to tell us if you don’t wanna talk about, but-"   
  
"It’s fine," Keith repeats. He takes a breath, sitting back down. "Um, Eric Kelly told him. After or before or during, i don't know, our first exam. He basically put on this front that he and I were friends and told him all about how I was a liar, and I’d been lying to him since the minute we met. And that I’m a loser and nothing like what I told him, and Lance hates liars, so, here we are."   
  
Matt frowns. "He dumped you over that?"   
  
"Well he kind of had the right to," Keith says. “He found out I wasn’t the person he thought he was dating, I probably would have done the same thing.”   
  
"But you only lied about the details," Pidge protests. "Not about who you are. You only lied about what you did, like- I don’t know. Smoking weed."   
  
"That’s what Nyma said, but I still lied, and Lance hates liars."   
  
"Still, though," Matt says. "Seems a bit harsh, especially considering how much he seemed to like you."

“That’s what I thought too, but, if it’s what Lance wants then…”   
  
Pidge looks thoughtful. "And you don’t suppose there’s anyway to, I don’t know, get you back together?"   
  
"Doubt it," Keith says. His tone is indifferent, but his heart sort of hurts. He feels like shit having to explain this again. "And besides, why would you want me and him to get back together? I was an asshole when we were dating."   
  
"Yeah, you were," Pidge says. "But he made you happy. And if you got back together and everything was all normal again and this time he knew the truth, you wouldn’t have to be an asshole."   
  
Keith shrugs. "It’s not going to happen. Lance hates me now."   
  


“Okay, pretty sure that’s an exaggeration, he most definitely doesn’t hate you.”

  
"What if we spoke to him?" Matt asks. "Would he listen?"   
  
"Probably not, he barely knows you, how would know know you guys weren't in on it the whole time, ya know?."   
  
"What we need," Pidge says. "Is a plan. Operation get Lance and Keith back together. Plan A. Mission Stay Together For The Kids. A study in school ties and black skinny jeans-"   
  
"This isn’t Riverdale," Matt reminds them. "Or Codename Kids Next Door. Dumb plans aren't actually going to do anything."   
  
"I know, the gays are never happy on those shows, a plan like that would never work for gays in real life," Pidge says. "But you’re the one who comes up with the plans, Matt. I put them into action, and Keith can just look pretty."   
  
"I think we should just talk to him calmly, explain to him how great Keith is as he is-"   
  
"No, no," Pidge interrupts. "He’ll never talk to us. We need something drastic, something big, to capture his attention-"   
  
"Guys," Keith says, weakly. "Stop. I appreciate all of this, really. But it isn’t going to happen. Lance doesn’t want to even look at me, let alone talk about me, and with good reason, and I accept that. So please- can we just talk about something else?"   
  
Matt and Pidge exchange a long look. And then Matt begins to hastily talk about some girl he met, and Pidge makes comments, and after a while, Keith joins in.   
  
But he can’t shake the feeling that this isn’t the end of this particular topic, and that Matt and Pidge won’t let this go.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wow can u believe this is going up LESS than a WEEK after the last one im growing as a writer wow
> 
> \-----------------  
> Heres the playlist for this specific chapter: https://open.spotify.com/user/22zirxjk424obkjxtygy4mamy/playlist/1jrmz1FDssv9JREmCmsXKL?si=-i2cB0BeR3qGtPyhNfXtHg
> 
> This is the one for the whole fic: https://open.spotify.com/user/22zirxjk424obkjxtygy4mamy/playlist/1bO5F6s0hQhpYVp00YLqbv

The exam this morning was freaking Keith out more than the others had. It’s ridiculous really, since he spent both Saturday and Sunday studying his ass off with Pidge and Matt, and the two of them knew everything Keith didn’t, and answered all questions he had. He’s prepared. He knows his shit for this one, and yet, as he sits on a bench in the front foyer of the school he has never panicked more, because at least for his other exams he had excuses for being bad, he was brooding and depressed and couldn’t concentrate. But this one, if he fucked this one up there were no excuses, he’s just dumb at that point. If he fails an exam in the sciences, his best area of study, after revising productively with other smart people, what does that mean for his future? If he isn’t good at science then fuck, Keith isn’t sure what he’ll be able to go back to. 

Keith knows deep down that he’ll be fine, knows that on top of all that studying he still has all his previous knowledge of Biology stashed away in his brain from before the whole Lance thing.

But acing this test sort of feels like a crutch. If he aces this, he’s fine, he’s back to being Keith Kogane, and in his mind if he aces this, he can just forget all about how he left his schoolwork to essentially rot in hell over a guy he likes.

Keith thinks it’s sort of insane that he’s thinking this way about a test, but it’s also oddly comforting.

“Oh god, what’s the extra X Chromosome one? Fuck,” Keith hears a kid from his class ask someone else.

The girl he asked looked panicked for a moment, before shuffling through her notes in hand.

_ Klinefelter. _

“XXY is, uh, Klinefelter Syndrome,” The short girl answers. The guy audibly sighs and sputters out multiple words of encouragement for himself, pacing as much as he can in the now crowded area around him.

Keith thinks he should be doing the same.

\----------------------

"That was the worst exam of my life," Matt huffs, stretching out his arms and kicking at the pavement.   
  
Keith rubs his neck, and he yawns. He’s really fucking tired, and he loves bio but he is so sure that he has failed. He sort of wants to cry.   
  
It never used to be like this- if this exam had come up last term, he’d have aced it with flying colours. Now he isn’t so sure.   
  
"I found it okay," Pidge says anxiously. "Question three though-"   
  
"Hell no," Matt says, suddenly. "We aren’t discussing your exam progress. I’ll jump off a cliff, seriously."   
  
"Fine," Pidge mutters. 

“At least it’s over and only two exams are left,” Keith says.

Both Matt and Pidge nod in agreement.

It kind of just sinks in then that Keith is more or less finished school for the year, aside from the few remaining exams he has left.

It’s a calming feeling really, one of the few he’s had in a while, that he gets to sort all of his shit out without having to worry about maintaining grades on top of it all.

He’s going to have a whole three month break from experience this hell hole every day.

Keith is also much less at risk of running into Lance.   
  
In a way, that’s good. It’s brilliant. He doesn’t have to feel that stab of guilt in his stomach, and he doesn’t have to linger on the fact that he has no one to blame but himself. He can forget and begin to move on, slowly. He can pretend that the last few months never happened because across the way there is never the chance of meeting warm blue eyes, and thinking back to kissing when their breath both smelled of smoke. And he isn’t reminded of the smooth, soft skin underneath his fingertip as he stroked gently along Lance’s hip or his thigh or the small of his back, and he doesn’t think about coming undone with Lance’s breath hot on his neck.   
  
It’s a blessing, kind of. Because Keith wants to forget. He does. If Lance doesn’t want Keith, then Keith won’t want Lance. He’s sick of thinking about Lance, sick of feeling so sad and upset because this was a stupid high school romance and it was never going to last: it was always going to end.   
  
But Keith had hoped to end on a good note at least, a horizon. He’d hoped their parting would come later, when Lance finished his gap year and swanned off on his big college future, and Keith went to some university that he would have a scholarship for. Maybe, so that it’d leave a bright, brand new future for the both of them. He’d thought they’d part on good terms and stay friends, still send good obscure bands to one another or meet up during breaks when they’re both back home- something, anything.   
  
Lance wouldn’t even look at him the last time he saw him. And the idea of him kissing someone else- it hurts like hell. And Keith wants him back so much that it hurts.   
  
It’s a weird thing to think about, the past few months because Keith changed and the person he became wasn’t necessarily good at all. He pushed his friends away, he gave in to pressures and if he fails his exam’s now then it is entirely his fault.   
  
But for once, he’d felt the sensation of being alive. He’d been so happy. He was alive, and he was free, and when he thinks about driving down the city highway with Lance as the evening caved into night time, and the sky was polluted with bright lights and the car wasn’t theirs and they breathed out silver smoke- he gets shivers down his spine, his neck tingles, tickles.   
  
He misses Lance, still.

Pidge turns slightly. "What about you Keith? How did you find it?"   
  
Keith shrugs. "Okay," he says. "I don’t think I did well, though."   
  
"Oh, come on," Matt rolls his eyes. "You’re one of the smartest in our year. You and Pidge, you’ve aced it."   
  
"I don’t know," Keith says. "Sciences really haven't been my best subject as of late. I’m not confident or nervous about it, I’m just- I don’t know."   
  
He must look like an idiot.   
  
Keith’s happy, really, he is. He’s not going to let boy trouble take over the entirety of his life, and he’ll get over this, get over Lance. But he’s going to allow himself some more time to mope, because it wasn’t even long ago that he was calling Lance from this very spot as everything unraveled.   
  
He can see Eric Kelly trailing away from the hall with his friends, and he feels a very sudden urge to punch him. He restrains himself, though. He doesn’t have a death wish. He does, however, still have a couple of bruises left over from their most recent encounter- which pales in comparison to the hurt he feels in his heart because he isn’t over Lance and he doesn’t see himself being over him for a long time and it’s all his fault. He can’t blame Eric Kelly for everything. Keith’s the liar.   
  
Matt and Pidge exchange a look. Keith knows that look. It’s concern.   
  
And, yeah, Keith’s happy. But he is also a little bit pathetic, or at least that’s how he feels.   
  
"Let’s go somewhere," Pidge says, gently. "Take our minds off of this shit, yeah?"   
  
"Subway," Matt suggests. "I’m starving."   
  
"It’s not even Eleven yet," Pidge reminds him.   
  
"I don’t care, it’ll be lunch time when we get there," Matt grins, and Keith tries his best to smile back. "Keith?"   
  
"Subway is good," he says. And Pidge rolls their eyes, but they are outnumbered so they sling their school bag over their shoulder as they all begin to walk away from the school grounds.   
  
Study leave is good.   
  
\-------------------------   
  
"What about that girl?" Keith asks. They’re nearing Subway now, and shit, Keith thinks, their town is such a shit hole. He misses spending all of his time hiding out in the most obscure ends of the city. Now they’re around the high street, and everything is grey except for the bursts of colourful graffiti, and there are letters missing from every other shop sign. "The one you danced with at prom, you know, Karsyn."   
  
Matt shrugs. "You know, I like her alot but I don’t want to be tied down, you know?" he says. He gestures down at himself; untucked white shirt with red sharpie stains on the rolled up sleeves and tattered converse. "There’s plenty of this to go around."   
  
Pidge cackles. Keith grins to himself. Matt’s insecure, he realises. Maybe everyone is, just a little bit.    
  
They keep talking. Not so much about romance, but definitely about girls, and Keith is okay with that because Lance definitely does not fall under that category and so he just offers commentary and dry humour because Matt is such an idiot sometimes, and Pidge is so shy about the whole idea of romance, and Keith tells them to get their act together and just ask her out if they like her, even if it is just a dumb high school thing that won't last.   
  
Pidge tells Keith that he is the worst person in the world, a title formerly owned by Matt. Keith feels a sense of pride in that.   
  
He is laughing, smiling. Happy, right? If a little pathetic but maybe that is only on occasion. He still feels a little strange, but he is not going to let Lance take over his life.   
  
Pidge pushes open the door.   
  
It’s a little ironic that Keith is thinking these kind of thoughts about Lance when the door opens, and suddenly Keith’s eyes are meeting a group of three teenage boys sat on the other side, laughing and joking, and Keith recognizes that tan skin and dimples. And the way that he throws his head back when he laughs.   
  
In an instant, he feels like running away. His life is a cliche and a shitty romance film, only with less chihuahuas and no mention of the American teenage dream. Instead there is more rain and idiotic white boys who think they're black, and crumpled grey sweatpants that every single other fucking person wears because America actually sucks, and Keith is riveting back to being a pathetic, love-struck little boy.   
  
He doesn’t like this.   
  
Matt nudges Keith, who just nods to show that he’s spotted Lance, and-   
  
Lance looks up, then, and their eyes meet from across the way. Lance’s eyebrows are raised, arched, the smile disappears from his face, the light leaves his eyes as the laughter ceases and it’s so obvious that Hunk and Coran both turn around, and Keith feels like a circus display.   
  
"You alright?" Pidge mutters.   
  
Keith nods. He’s not going to run away. It isn’t like he’s never had an ex boyfriend hate him before. Or, okay it is but still. It isn’t like Lance owns Subway. It isn’t like Keith should leave. Keith has every right to a haphazardly made sandwich as much as Lance does.   
  
Keith thinks that maybe he should leave, though. He pushes down the thought and steps forwards, and Lance’s eyes continue to bore into him. He looks angry, upset, and a variety of other shitty emotions that Lance doesn’t deserve to feel.   
  
"You sure?" Matt says, as they move towards the counter and join the queue. "Because we can go somewhere else if you like. We can raid our kitchen or something. We don’t mind, honestly."   
  
"Yeah," Pidge echoes, quietly, bumping their arm against his for comfort. "Really, Keith, it’s okay."   
  
Keith shakes his head, and stretches a smile over his lips. "No," he says. "No, it’s fine. Really. Okay? Let’s just- yeah. It isn’t like I can go my whole life without seeing him again. He isn’t exactly someone who fades into the background."   
  
Pidge shoots him an encouraging smile, and Matt shrugs. As if to say it’s your funeral, as if he’s pretty sure in three seconds Keith’s legs are going to turn into jelly and he’ll collapse and crawl out of the door and into the gutter. It’s something Keith would do, after all.   
  
And then his gaze is back to Lance, and Lance is still looking at him, a long look, as if he misses Keith, too. But there’s also anger there, and Keith is pretty sure that Lance hates him.   
  
He hurt him, he realises, a lot. At the beginning, Keith was almost sure that Lance McClain was untouchable, that no one could hurt him, but now he supposes that was always ridiculous. Lance has high walls and guarded gates but he is still human, and he let Keith in. And Keith let him down. Keith dropped him from a fucking skyscraper.   
  
"Let’s go," he hears Lance mutter- or something like that, and there are nods and then Coran, and Hunk are standing up and joining Lance on their feet, and they’re dumping their leftovers in the bin and making their way out, and Lance’s arm brushes Keith’s.   
  
"Lance-" Keith starts. He isn’t sure why. He has nothing to say, but the words forced themselves out, almost. The name sounds hollow on his tongue. He gulps, stopping himself. He hates himself in this moment. Fuck.   
  
Lance turns around, meeting their gazes again and his eyes don’t look like the warm and welcoming blues anymore. Instead they look like storm clouds above the sea; cold and indifferent and guarded.   
  
"What do you want?" he snaps. He might be guarded, but Keith can still read him, sort of, and he catches the tremor of hurt in his eyes, and it hurts like hell.   
  
Keith bites his lip, forcing the next few syllables out.   
  
He fucking wishes he could make things right.   
  
"Lance, I-"   
  
"I don’t want to talk to you Keith," Lance says. Keith looks down for a moment, and see Lance’s knuckles whiten. "Please just-"   
  
"Lance," Pidge says, quietly. "Give him a chance? Please."   
  
"He’s sorry," Matt adds. "He’s a good guy, man, please just- hear him out. He didn’t mean to do anything wrong."   
  
"He cares about you," Pidge says, finally.   
  
Keith is biting his tongue. He wants to cry.   
  
Lance looks at him for a long moment. Keith isn’t sure how to feel, and he can’t read these emotions. For half a second, he feels Lance’s vision graze over his lips, and he wants to blush. Wants to kiss Lance, touch Lance, be with Lance-   
  
And then cold indifference washes over his eyes again.   
  
"This is just a sick fucking joke," Lance mutters. He says nothing else. An eye roll is thrown in their direction, and then he is out of the door, leaving everyone, including Hunk and Coran behind.

And it feels as if Keith’s life and everything fucking sucks more than it had mere moments before. And Keith? Keith bites back tears and plasters on a smile and thanks his two best friends. And he is pathetic.   
  
So fucking pathetic.

"You should go after him," Pidge says immediately. "Go on, Keith. You need to talk to him and sort this shit out."   
  
"For once in my life, I agree with Pidge," Matt adds. "You’ve been miserable without him."   
  
"It’s pointless," says Keith, flatly- and he’s sort of proving Matt’s point now, with the whole misery scenario but he can’t help it. He feels like shit, and Lance hates him. He wishes he’d just taken his damned beatings, they’d have hurt less.   
  
Bruises and swellings and battering fists, those are things that he is used to. Not hatred, not losing somebody who, even for a short space of time, meant so fucking much.   
  
"Keith," Pidge urges. "Just do it. Seriously."   
  
"I can’t," Keith bites his lip. "I can’t. He hates me. He won’t listen."   
  
"Then make him listen," says Matt. "Tell him everything."   
  
"I already did-"   
  
"But was he listening?"   
  
Keith shakes his head. "You don’t get it. I fucked Lance over, I lied to him and I made him feel like shit. Why are you sticking up for me?"   
  
"Because other people do worse every day," Pidge says. "People lie and people cheat and they fuck everything up, but that doesn’t mean they- or you- should just run away from the situation and start again. If you want Lance, go and make him listen or something and show him you’re fucking sorry. You’re not a bad person. And do you really think Lance has never fucked up in his life? Never told a lie? Because I can guarantee you he has."   
  
"For once in your life," Matt starts. "Don’t be a scared little kid."   
  
"I’m not being like that!" Keith protests.   
  
Pidge rolls their eyes. "I just recited a whole speech, and that is what you choose to comment on?"   
  
"No, but Pidge I can’t," Keith says. "I need to respect his wishes and let him start again and not burden him anymore-"   
  
"Keith?"   
  
"Yeah?"   
  
"Shut up," Pidge sighs. "Stop preaching about his happiness and for one moment, take a look at yours. I’m not saying go over there and offer him a damn blow job, I’m telling you to go and get yourself some fucking closure by sorting all of this out. If you speak to him and tell him what’s what, it’s hardly going to ruin his life. He’s not exactly going to turn to heroin and join a cult and move to Taiwan, is he? Neither of you have anything to lose."   
  
"Listen to Pidge," Matt instructs. "I think they're the teenage embodiment of Dumbledore or something. Wise as fuck."   
  
Keith takes a look out of the window, and Lance isn’t even anywhere in sight. The room feels too hot, too stuffy, and there are eyes upon the three of them.   
  
He shakes his head. "I’m going," he says. "I’ll talk to you later. I need to think."   
  
"Keith-" Pidge’s tone is exasperated, but Keith is already pushing his way through the door and spilling out onto the streets.

He takes a long deep breath in once across the street from the subway.

Keith knows he was being a bit dramatic to Pidge and Matt, but he also partially doesn’t care, because Lance just through him for a loop. Keith isn’t sure how to handle any of the emotions that are rising in him. He kind of just wants to break a plate or something.

So he cuts off of the main street and onto one of the suburb streets close by, breathing heavy and nearly stomping down the sidewalk. He just wishes that he could finally talk this out more with Lance, because not addressing Lance’s clearly pent up feelings about the situation are making him worse, Keith realizes. There’s just no way in hell that Keith is going to ever be over this whole thing unless he gets some kind of closure from Lance.

Then as if the universe listened to his needs for the first time in weeks, Keith notices a tall, lanky figure going to turn a corner a little farther down the street. Suddenly Keith has no control over his body; he’s running in the direction of Lance, blinded by the mix of emotions running through his brain.

“Lance!”

Lance turns at the sound of his name, but just speeds up slightly, bringing his gaze back to in front of him, and turning the corner faster. Keith speeds up as well, waiting to be on the same street as him once again before saying anything more.

“Lance please just fucking talk this out with me!” Keith is just pleading words that he isn’t sure of the origins. Lance just picks up his pace, jumping off of the sidewalk and onto the road. Keith scoffs at the immaturity of it all.

He doesn’t know when he grew a pair of balls in the last five minutes or when he decided he was able of telling Lance how it is, but he’s not going to stop now.

“Stop ignoring me for one fucking second and realize how immature this is! Why are you handling all of this in this way? This is so childish, oh my god!”

He’s sure that Lance can hear his pleas, since he’s yelling them loud enough for people still writing their exam to hear.

“This isn’t healthy, Lance! You avoiding me- it’s not doing any fucking good!” Keith screams.

Lance stops in his tracks and stands still on the side of the road. Keith can the the stark rise and fall of his shoulders, and knows that Lance is worked up just as much as he is. He’s not expecting any sort of vocalized response, and even if there were to be one, Keith probably wouldn’t give him the time of day to allow his two cents until he was done expressing his own feelings.

“I get that you don’t want to fucking see me, I really do! But fuck, Lance, Ignoring me isn’t going to help the situation get resolved for either of us and you know that! I  _ know _ you’re smarter than this!”

Keith continues stomping to where Lance was stopped, heart filled with no way out but through yelling, but when Lance turns around, Keith is frozen into his spot on the curb. His shoulders drop, an his face loosens from the previously permanent scowl present. Lance’s bloodshot eyes, and red splotchy skin looking back at him were the last thing Keith expected, and fuck if he thought not hearing from Lance was bad, this felt like getting hit by a train. He doesn’t know what to do with a crying Lance, he’s never seen this, experienced this, felt this.

A few moments pass like that, Keith looking incredulously at Lance, and Lance clearly trying to calm himself down enough to address Keith.

“Fuck I- I know it’s not doing any good,” Lance spills out at last. He looks lost for words, and Keith thinks that this is also a first. “I just can’t right now, okay? Not like this.”

Keith furrows his eyebrows and feels a lump in his throat.

“Lance please don’t keep putting off-”

“I’m not putting it off,” Lance shoots back, with a little more force than there had been in his previous words. He’s not angry anymore like he had been in the Subway, he just sounds confused, and that reminds Keith that Lance doesn’t just  _ hate _ him, like Keith likes to think. “I honestly haven’t known what to say to you without getting extremely pissed off or overly emotional; I just need more time, Keith.”

And then he’s gone, putting earphones in and turning away, but not without a sniffle escaping and allowing Keith to hear it.

  
Keith hasn’t felt this exhausted in his life.   



	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so i had really fucking bad writers block for this chapter and had to illicit the help of one of my best friends to even get this chapter off of the ground and to do that i shared the chapters google docs and we held a conversation abt what to do in the actual doc (because fuck the google messaging system) but basically each paragraph on its own looks so insane and is so full of typos that im gonna put my half of the convo below bc it is?? so confusing and dumb without context dont feel like u need to read blow the second cut its so dumb
> 
> \-----------------
> 
> Heres the playlist for this specific chapter: https://open.spotify.com/user/22zirxjk424obkjxtygy4mamy/playlist/0vDAHz3N2xqQqemVcfU77R?si=6rL4xDZyS96xCqOJxaSgpw
> 
> This is the one for the whole fic: https://open.spotify.com/user/22zirxjk424obkjxtygy4mamy/playlist/1bO5F6s0hQhpYVp00YLqbv
> 
> \-----
> 
> So like HIM JUST COMPLAINING dont mind the caps adsfcvda uh what is he thinkin abt other than bein a dum bitch tho adhjkshf gotta think abt this oh boy cause like i need more for him to complain abt than school or like not as repetitive yknow OH bless u yeet it,,,,, makes sense im just stressed stil asdafdsra u could write it and i could refine if that mkaes sense like out line it for me and ill type the boy oh u rite yeah thats tru im just stressed cause i set word count goals for myself and i have like 3k more to write yeah i will be adding more to their convo that happens asjdhfbjsdhbfoajhbsdfojh i just have to brainstorm like what else lance asks him abt and talks abt so it can go on longer i have a drink yeah yeah u rite i would if i wouldnt look insane adjsnfsda i like to walk around coming up with ideas but its so late i cant without question s ,,,,im not dehydrated i drink like 3 litres of water a day hoe I JUST HAD POPCORN and ill get nightmares if i eat this late :(( ashjdbsldahs bc u keep deleting ur part of the convo this giant paragraph looks insane I JUST DI D SDAHABSYDO this is a visual interpritation of my bipolar disorder ashgdvgdhsf i fucking will and ill credit u omg what social medias would u liek credited sir oh yeh i forget that u arent on like everything ahsjdbkfs so just .. ur tublr Wha is ur writer blog dude ajsdhbjbh OH ok u are lame but we been knew that… anythin else buddy pal friend amigo sir asdhjfbasjhodbfoajh CHU,M I READ THAT AS CHEWM LIKE NYOOM BUT CHEW SJDHBFCJHOASDOJ yeah i think im good now i might run like ideas by u throuhg discord or smth once i br e a t h e yeet alright thanks for comin out to my ted talk akjdhbsdl nice

Keith begins having trouble sleeping after his confrontation with Lance. Before, he had been sleeping too often, barely having time to even eat throughout the day; now he feels like he can’t even remember the last time he slept well enough to have a dream.

In some ways, the no sleep is a blessing. Keith is able to have time to study, and have the time to do any other tasks that he had left on the way side while sulking over Lance for the last week and little bit. But he can’t remember a time in his life where he’s ever been this exhausted. Keith knows that starting as soon as tomorrow he’ll be able to put off sleep as often as he wants without really caring about any consequences or being upset about it, but with one exam still left, he’s feeling the pressure. Sure the no sleep means that he can do more studying, but it also means that he may pass out on his exam paper in five hours once he's there taking the test, and wont even be able to put all of this late night studying to use. It’s really a catch twenty-two, and Keith feels like he’s risking it all.

But since sleep is definitely out of the question, Keith buckles down and tries to power through another ten math problems. They come easy to him, as per usual, his brain actually allowing him to remember his past years worth of information. Thank god that he had calc last term too, and already knew the basics before he jumped off of the scholar wagon all those months ago. Otherwise he’s not so sure he would be zipping through all these equations as fluently as he was. By the time Keith finishes his study sheet, the clock on his laptop is reading 7am and the sky has turned hues of orange and violet.

He feels absolutely confident for this final exam, the best he’s felt all year, yet also feels like he may burst into tears at any given moment. But, Keith figures, that could be due to numerous other reasons than just this calculus exam. 

\-----------------

Despite his own insistence that he would just calm the hell down and play computer games for the rest of the night, Keith lost interest after about ten minutes of sims and ended up abandoning his computer for his bed at 5, and he has been here since. His last exam still has him a little on edge, due to the uncertainty of how his final grades are going to turn out; Shiro doesn’t know about his drop in average from the middle of the term, and Keith is praying to every deity believed in by humans that his exam grades are enough to average him out to  _ at least _ an 80. So Keith’s not asleep, once again.

He’s not sure what he expected of himself, really. He knew that his sleeping issues weren’t school related, so why he thought he’d just be able to sleep his days away now that school’s done seems idiotic. Yeah his freaking out about his average is a genuine concern that’s probably contributing but Keith’s pretty sure this restlessness is just heartbreak.

The day had gone by so much slower than any other day had since that fight with Lance, and so Keith is even more uptight about his lack of sleep. Matt and Pidge had to leave immediately after the final exams today for some family trip to the lake with their grandparents, and so Keith was left to his own devices: lying down and doing nothing. If this never ending day had taken place at any other point in his life, Keith would do nothing other than sleep his life away since his friends aren’t in town. So dealing with what feels like a never-ending day is even more of an unbearable hell than it would have been on any other day when he had a normal sleep schedule, or even just yesterday when his day hadn't felt as long. 

His bed is comfortable and his room temperature is fine, albeit a little cold with how high Shiro likes to crank up the Air conditioning, and his lava lamp is on, allowing just enough warm lighting for him to in theory be able to sleep. 

Too bad this is all ruined by his stupid brain. 

Keith hears a loud noise coming from his left side. Though he’s surprised it’s already that early, he’s more so upset with himself than anything for forgetting to turn off his alarm when he doesn’t even need it anymore. He rolls over, rubbing his stinging eyes, and tries to grab his phone, before he realises that it isn’t even going off. And that there is no light streaming through his curtains; it’s only two fifty in the morning.   
  
His immediate reaction is  _ oh shit _ , I’m being murdered, this is the end- until he quickly realises that there isn’t actually anyone in his room, and the sound- whatever it is- is coming from outside, and somebody is throwing who knows what at his window.   
  
Frustrated, he picks himself up out of bed and drags himself across the floor trying to keep his eyes open, mentally promising himself that if it’s Pidge post one too many deadname uses from their grandma  _ like last time, _ then he’s actually going to hurl a bucket full of water down onto them because it’s too early for this shit no matter how annoyed and upset they are.   
  
He fumbles to find the curtains in his overly tired state, another thing tapping against his window as he does so, eventually getting a good grasp on them and drawing them wide open. Keith looks out into the starless city sky first, squinting his eyes to adjust to the illuminated street lights far along his road, and slowly moving his gaze downwards to a figure on his property. Another thing hits his window and he yelps slightly, rubbing his eyes one last time to figure out how to open his window to yell at the person throwing shit at his house at three in the fucking morning. His eyes begin to see normally as he cranks his window, and once his sleepless eyes clear a little more, everything comes into focus and he can see the person throwing what are now clearly stones at his window.   
  
And then his heart skips a beat, and his brain is working overdrive once again because every little gear in his brain that had been fucked these past few days quickly fall into place and Lance is standing outside of his window, more small stones in his hand, and Keith is confused, but excited and terrified all at once.

Keith climbs up onto his work desk that's below the large window to sit and have an easier view of the situation, but Lance doesn’t notice him at first. He flings another stone and it skids right onto the window screen, giving Keith’s anxiety a boost from fear of eventually being hit by one of those stones.

Oh my god, what if Lance came here to throw those stones at him.   
  
And then Lance sees him, and he gestures impatiently, and Keith in a panic removes his window screen to push his window open even further than it’s meant to.

  
"Lance?" he calls, his voice quiet, out into the open air. “Were you throwing  _ fucking rocks _ at my window?”   
  
"Finally," Lance grumbles, clearly ignoring the question Keith asked. "Can you let me in?"   
  
Keith considers. Shiro is sleeping soundly a room away from him, and the walls aren’t too thin but they aren’t that thick at all, either, so the two of them talking about anything would wake Shiro without fail. Then even if Keith were to manage to get Lance in, the creak of the staircase will echo all the way throughout the house before they got anywhere private and just talking out in the open would wake Shiro in a second; this really is not how he wants his brother to meet his ex boyfriend, a few hours before he has to work while people are meant to be dreaming.

  
"Um," Keith says. "Probably not."

Lance thinks for a moment, clearly trying to find a quick solution, and the longer it takes for him to suggest anything else, the more Keith becomes an anxious wreck.   
  
"Can you come out then?"   
  
It crosses his mind again that the floorboards are creaky and the stairs echo and he also realizes that the lock will sound throughout the empty hallways and the heavy front door slamming would be the worst of all of that, and everything sounds a lot louder in the midst of the night when the world is silent besides roaring engines and mosquitoes.   
  
And then he remembers that it’s Lance. And he has things to say, and he wants to know why the fuck Lance is throwing stones at his window in the early hours of the morning. And he’d be stupid to say no, especially since this is what he asked for all those days ago.   
  
"Yeah," Keith decides. "Uh... Just give me a minute."   
  
Lance nods, and Keith quickly pulls the window closed, his heart racing as he locks it. He wonders what Lance has to say- why it couldn’t wait until a decent time of the morning or even just a phone call? Every other possible emotion Keith had moments ago has been taken over by how fucking terrified he is. Not because Lance is Lance, and he has a reputation and he steals cars and drinks too much. Not because he has a knife or pulls said knife out for some fights. Maybe once upon a time, all sorts of worried, neurotic thoughts would have passed through his mind but not anymore. Because Keith knows who Lance is now, and he knows that he’s a good person- a fucking great person. He has a softer side and he’s nice and would probably take a bullet for every single one of his friends and family. Keith has learned that people, himself included, are quick to make assumptions when maybe they shouldn’t.

Oh no, Keith is terrified because this could very well be the last time he ever speaks to or sees Lance.   
  
He slides off of his desk slowly, careful to not knock over his laptop or any papers left from his studying. He rummages through his dirty clothes pile and pulls out his jeans from that day to replace his pajama pants, and throws on a hoodie over the top of his t-shirt. He takes a harsh glance over of himself in his mirror and decides to pull his hair back into a ponytail just to keep that mess out of his face. He grabs his house keys and quietly, as silently as he can manage, pushes open his bedroom door. He slowly closes his bedroom door, holding his breath for every second until it’s quietly shut, and he lightly pads his way down the stairs. His heart is racing, and it feels like it’s louder than his breathing is because he’s sort of terrified. Butterflies seizure through his entire body, and he’s nervous. More nervous than he knows he has ever been. He doesn’t want Lance to hate him anymore, but he also has this terrible habit of saying the wrong thing every single time he opens his mouth, especially around Lance as of late.   
  
_ Breathe _ , he tells himself, as he tugs on his runners then turns to just stare at the front door. He reaches a shaky hand towards the lock and turns it, terrified that it made a louder noise than intended, and then quickly steps out into the warm summer night, to avoid making any more unnecessary noise. He carefully shuts the door behind him, before locking it and taking careful steps out towards where Lance is standing, idle. Keith can’t read his expression in the darkness.   
  
"Hey," he says, clutching his keys tight.   
  
"Hey," he replies, rubbing the back of his neck. He sounds kind of awkward, as if he’d had so much to say but now that he’s here, he doesn’t know how to word it.

It’s weird, Keith realizes, to see their roles almost reversed. Lance always knew what the right thing to say or do was, Keith is the one who fumbles his words and has to triple check his actions before doing them. Seeing Lance like this is a whole new experience that Keith never knew he would see. Sure, Lance is human just as much as Keith is, so he has just as much ability to get tongue tied, but Lance, the cool, confident, relaxed Lance that he knew felt like the only real version of Lance. The angry and hurt Lance that he had been seeing as of late hurt to see, but it wasn’t so far out of his character that it felt like a shift in the cosmos. This new Lance is throwing him a curveball.   
  


"Um," Keith says. And then he winces because Lance must think he’s an idiot. He hates himself for getting tongue-tied all of the time, especially now when he feels the need to not make this any more awkward than it feels. "Can I ask what you’re doing here?"   
  
"I wanted to talk to you," Lance says, voice soft. "Or give you a chance to talk to me. Matt and Pidge found me downtown earlier and kept bugging me about how I need to give you a chance and listen, and Pidge said some shit about how it’s not as if I’ve never made a mistake and, you know, that’s true. And I don’t know, I want to listen now, I’m ready to listen now."   
  
"Oh," Keith just about squeaks. "I, um-"   
  
"Calm down," Lance says. "I’m not going to shank you." Keith doesn’t tense up, this time. There is no bitter undertone to Lance’s words, it’s just a joke. And that’s a good sign if anything that they’re apparently on joking terms once again, so Keith breathes out a sigh of relief.   
  
"I know," Keith says. "I’m just- this is a bit of a surprise, you know?"   
  
"I know," Lance shrugs. 

“It’s three in the morning,” Keith explains further, trying to get something out of him.

“Yeah,” Lance replies with another shrug and a lazy smile. "Walk with me?"   
  
Keith nods, maybe against his better judgement, and they fall into step together as Keith’s house is left in the distance. The amber glow from the streetlights on the opposite side of the road casting their shadows, their every step.   
  
"I really am sorry," is the first thing that Keith says. "I want you to know before anything that I mean it when I say it was never, ever my intention to like, fuck you over."   
  
"Okay."   
  
"I didn’t go out searching for friendship," Keith admits. "I mean, having them- Eric Kelly and the rest- see me with you in that shop was probably enough, and I was fine with that. But then you invited me to that party, and I was like ‘why not’ and I went, and, well, I started to like you. That first day, I was already having people from my year shit on me for like, existing, and I was scared if you knew how boring I was that you would do the same, and then I’d have more people to be wary of. The whole reason why I lied in the first place- a part of it was because I was scared of you. I won’t deny it.”   
  
Lance tenses.   
  
"Because of your reputation," Keith continues. "And I didn’t know you, or who you were really, you were just Lance McClain and you seemed to not like most people, hell, earlier that first day I watched you full on toy with Howden, and I knew that wasn’t the most ballsy thing you had ever done to someone. Despite being the most charismatic person in existence when you want to be, I never thought you would like me of all people. I had no idea what kind of person you were, whether you really were the kind of guy to stab me for knocking you onto the floor. It was an automatic defense mechanism, you know? And it’s not something I’m proud of. And I won’t deny that I was excited about the prospect of not being a constant target and a victim but Lance, I swear, I wasn’t lying about liking you."   
  
"You weren’t?" Lance sounds surprised. That hurts a little.   
  
"No," Keith says. "I was scared of you. I did a lot of that shit because I was scared of you- like, weed and the spray paint thing and stuff. I’d never done drugs before, never smoked or illegal except drink, like, three times at home. I did it because I was scared of what you’d say and I wanted you to like me, but it was more peer pressure than anything and you did nothing wrong, okay, because you never forced me. And when I kissed you and when we had sex- I wanted that. I really wanted that. I liked you, okay. I still do. Everything I did and going out with you- that wasn’t out of fear. That was out of feeling."   
  
"I thought that it wasn’t," Lance says. "I thought that it was all just- I don’t know what. But I thought that _ everything _ was a lie. Even the sex and even us or whatever. I just figured they were all kind of caught up together."   
  
"It started out with me trying to impress you," Keith sighs, he feels repetitive. "I don’t know. To not be a victim? Maybe. So as not to be a loser? Definitely. But even when I was smoking things and doing things I maybe hadn’t wanted to do in the past, it was my own choice, and I was the one who fucked up. And I know I lied and fucked everything up but- I never lied about how I felt about you. I swear. And I’m not lying now when I say that I really, really miss you, and I still really, really like you."   
  
"You do?"   
  
"Yeah," Keith nods. He kind of wants to cry. "At first I was terrified of you, but fuck, Lance, once I got past that everything kind of changed, and I realised that you aren’t your reputation. You’re different to the character people create for you and you aren’t everything that everyone says you are- you’re more, and you’re good, even when you’re being bad and- I sound cheesy as fuck, I know, but I like you for you."   
  
"I liked you too," Lance says. "I thought that you were fucking amazing, you know? You were everything I wanted and I really, really liked you. And I want to say that I still do. But I don’t know if I can, because I’m not sure if I do know you anymore.”

  
Keith’s face falls. They’re out of the golden trail of light, and thank fuck, because Keith doesn’t want Lance to see the downcast reflection in his eyes.

They’ve ended up walking all the way to the park in Keith’s neighbourhood, and Keith realizes he is kind of glad that this conversation is happening at this unforsaken hour in the morning. If it was at a normal time there would be people at every turn, mothers, fathers, kids, people from their school. They wouldn’t be able to talk without any outside forces influencing it.

  
"But," Lance says, after a moment of silence. “I do believe you a hundred percent when you said that the relationship wasn’t a lie, I really do. I’m just not sure what parts of  _ you _ were a lie, if that makes sense.”

Keith nods. He watches as Lance turns for the swing sets and quickly wonders if this is where their walk ends, at a suburban park swing set that he hasn’t been to in at least three years. If it is, Keith feels...odd. Combining something so new with something this nostalgic feels almost like a curse, but Keith also logically knows that he is sleep deprived and everything feels weird.

Lance sits on the swing furthest from the rest of the park and begins rocking himself, keeping his feet firm against the sand.

“So maybe I could get to know you? Like, the actual you. Not whoever you pretended to be for me, but the person you were when you weren’t pretending, because I’m sure there were moments, right? And if I still liked you in those moments, maybe I can still like you now. Maybe."   
  
"Really?" Keith breathes.   
  
"Maybe," Lance says again. He’s looking off at the vacant road and not meeting Keith’s eyes. 

He isn’t surprised- Lance hates confrontation and heavy shit and just everything that this conversation is. But Keith’s heart is beating too fast, and he’s hoping for something good.

Keith decides to sit on the swing next to him instead of just awkwardly standing in front of him, and shuffles across the sand, being careful to not get his hands caught in the knots in the metal chains as he sits.

"You can’t be all bad. And you fucked up, but I do that all the time. And maybe it’ll work and maybe it won’t, but maybe we could try. Not, like, jump back into a relationship, nothing like that. But just get to know each other. Be friends."   
  
"Friends," Keith repeats. He’s never heard anything he wants more. "I’d like that. I’d really, really like that."   
  
"So," Lance says, awkwardly. "Do you want to try it?"   
  
"Yeah," says Keith. "I’d love to."   
  
Lance stops, then, and he turns from the road as a car comes into view, and he meets Keith’s eyes. He’s still hurting a little, and he’s definitely still upset. But a small, soft smile spreads over his face, his chapped lips curving upwards, and it’s a start.   
  
And under the faint light from the car headlights that pass behind them, Keith can’t stop smiling.

“Yeah, okay, yeah that’s good,” Lance says looking up at the sky.

Keith nods, feeling his eyes droop out of the calmness that he feels. It’s as if cinder blocks have been smashed and cleared out of his brain, and now his whole body feels less on edge than it probably has since he met Lance. This is like a brand new start that he’s being given, they get to redo things in a way that Keith is comfortable with, and that is something he will be eternally grateful for.

“So,” Keith begins once again. “Why did you decide to talk about this now?”

Lance looks at him a little bit confused. “Is it a problem?”

“No! No, not at all! It’s just that, well, it’s nearly four in the morning, Lance.”

Lance chuckles awkwardly, the sleepy smile never leaving his face.

“Yeah, suppose it is.”

Keith smiles back at him, beginning to rock himself slowly on his swing.

“I couldn’t sleep- haven’t been able to since you yelled at me,” he explains looking at Keith.

Keith stares back at Lance not saying anything. It’s very clear that Lance is possibly just as sleep deprived as Keith is, and he’s noticing it now in the purple rings that surround the corners of his eyes that were never there before.

“I was on maybe my eleventh smoke before I realized that instead of moping in my own thoughts about the situation I could just do something about it. I didn’t even realize how late it was,” Lance sighs. “I didn’t even stop to think that you would be asleep, so, sorry if I woke you.”

Keith chuckles softly at Lance. He finds it funny how they were both reeling over the situation in similar ways but did nothing about it. It’s so dumb of the both of them, but Keith decides he doesn’t mind that it took so long. They’re fine now anyways.

“Yeah, no, it’s fine, I wasn’t even anywhere close to sleeping anyway. I can’t really remember the last time I did sleep if I’m being real,” Keith admits looking up at the sky.

“What? I just haven’t slept tonight, what do you mean you can’t remember the last time you slept?”

Keith shrugs, and looks sheepishly at Lance.

“I think it’s been at least 3 days. I don’t know.”

Lance stares back at him, wide eyed and mouth slightly agape. It’s as if he had never heard such an idea, staying awake for that long. 

“We’re taking you back home,” Lance says.

“Oh, no, it’s fine, really,” Keith insists, some anxiety seeping back into his brain.

“I don’t want you dying of insomnia, Keith,” Lance tells him, standing up from the swing set.

Keith stays sat for a moment, looking down at his sand covered shoes. Keith really doesn’t care that he hasn’t slept in however long. Sure it’s annoying, but that's the worst thing to come out of lack of sleep in his eyes. Lance’s dramatics are ridiculous, but it’s also Lance, and Keith doesn’t want to give him any reason more to worry about something else after the hell that he had given him.

He decides that a worried Lance is better than a bitter one and stands up.

“I’ll walk you back home?”

Keith nods.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SHOUT OUT TO MY FRIEND WHO HELPED: his writing tumblr is @the-writer-boy and regular tumblr is @spectredreams
> 
> also follow ME on tumblr if u wanna be up to date with this and ask questions: @dragonaire


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> askldhlhs so im not dead who'd've thunk it

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heres the playlist for this specific chapter: https://open.spotify.com/user/22zirxjk424obkjxtygy4mamy/playlist/6SjP4rg3tbOMzvY9SVtKT0?si=L6cZEiQyTTSOVqC6oC4nEQ
> 
> This is the one for the whole fic: https://open.spotify.com/user/22zirxjk424obkjxtygy4mamy/playlist/1bO5F6s0hQhpYVp00YLqbv

The summer begins to draw by slowly. After Keith finally got over his last few exams, he realized that cramming in a couple of late night study hours on the nights leading up to them wasn’t really what could get him the grades he needs, but he’s trying not to panic too much.

He’s not really angry with who he’s become. In the back of his mind a small voice nags at him because he should’ve revised instead of straying away into Lance’s crowd, but he shrugs it away. He had fun, and in some ways, he learned more while out with Lance and Allura and everyone else, than he ever would have had he sat alone in his bedroom, scanning the small black print in his textbooks. He doesn’t really regret it the further he gets from the heat of exams.

And he’s decided. He isn’t going to be Keith, but he’s also not going to be Keith Kogane, always too shy to say a word anymore. He’s just going to be hat he want to be, and he’s going to balance out work and play and live a little without losing himself. That kind of seems like a good idea.

He hasn’t really spoken to Lance that much, and there’s a part of him that thinks that everything is a lie, a false promise when it’s murmured in the dim night when both of them should be sleeping. He kind of assumes that Lance is never going to speak to him again despite his saying he wants to try being friends.

In a way, that seems good. Keith’s not sure how he’d act, really. He never exactly put on a persona to hide his personality, but he’s painfully boring without the protection and the body armour of his lies. In a way, he’s all exposed now, he can’t hide behind a fake attitude anymore because Lance knows and he can’t risk covering up anymore.

Mostly, he spends his time with Matt and Pidge, occasionally texting Lance and losing himself in the Lord of the Rings books. Which he may or may not have been obsessively re-reading, to possibly keep his mind to worrying too much over his friendship with Lance. And he’s lonely, still. He’s got Pidge and Matt but they’re usually together, especially since it’s the summer so they go on family trips every weekend to their cottage. Despite everything, Keith is always going to be on the outside, just a little bit, and sometimes that’s okay but at other times it just fucking sucks and he can’t be bothered to deal with it.

He can’t help but feel lonely. Just a little bit.

\-------------

Three days after his final exam (and his last encounter with Lance) Keith decides that he’s going to go to to the school to get his grades, instead of just waiting for them like every other year. His ease of mind is honestly top priority over anything else, he also just want to be able to stop walking on eggshells around Shiro, and so he’s definitely going to the school for faster results.

The walk to the school is a somewhat strange one. Keith doesn’t really feel anything, which, don’t get him wrong, is a welcome change to the inner turmoil that he had been experiencing the past few weeks, but it’s just weird.

Not even during just the exam period, but for the last two months, every walk to school had some strange emotion accompanying it, between fear and exhillerance he experienced everything.

He supposes being mundane again is just a shock to his system.

The school has a decent amount of people once he gets there. Keith had never realized how many kids actually came in person to get their grades, he had just sort of always assumed that people would wait for them out of laziness.

Keith takes out one of his earbuds and starts to head towards the closest classroom, which was his history room. Keith wasn’t that worried about history. Though he’s not sure if he’s done up to par with his previous grades, history has never really been his thing in general, and he really doesn’t need it for school.

Keith walks into his history classroom, paying little mind to anything aside from the music he was listening to. He quickly takes note of the number of kids in the room and scurries towards the desk that was turned to face the door today, and sees that he has to get his final scores himself. He rumages quickly through the folders of his classes aliases that they all chose at the beginning of term until he spots his own and yanks it out.

Keith scans the top of the paper and reads ‘final grade: 74%’ which has him letting out a sigh of relief.

He quickly puts the folder back, not really caring too much about the breakdown of that grade and just happy that he fucking passed AP History.

Keith makes his way down the hallway to his English room slowly. Other than bio, english was the class that caused him the most stress this term. Speaking was already not his strong suit, let alone writing, so a class fully dedicated to that sort of thing was not going to be a good time for Keith. Add onto that drugs and a hot boyfriend or a messy break up with said aforementioned boyfriend and that’s just a recipe for disaster.

Keith sighs when he reaches the room, and is confused because the light’s are off. Is she not here?

He peeks his head in the room, and sees Mrs. Piper illuminated by a laptop at a desk.

“Keith! Let me find your exam, one moment.”

Keith stands in spot, nodding despite her head already having turned down to her desk.

“I have to say Keith, I was quite worried about you near the end there,” she says, still rummaging through the stacks of paper on her desk.

Keith hums in acknowledgement, fully aware that most of his teachers probably were worried, and confused.

“But, that essay you turned out really was a joy to read; it was one of the better topic’s that was chosen,” she continues talking, and Keith’s anxiety changes from about his grades to just general anxiety about conversing with adults. “And your exam… Here it is.”

Mrs. Piper looks up at him and hands out the stapled paper. Keith grabs the exam paper without a second thought, looking down immediately.

He lets out a gasp, and looks up to his teacher who is smiling brightly back at him.

“You ended up passing the course with a 90 overall, that exam mark really helped, you turned it around at the end.”

“Oh, wow, thank you so much,” Keith sputters out, still holding on to his exam paper, kind of out of comfort.

“It was all you, Keith, don’t thank me,” she laughs.

Keith gives her a shy smile and looks down at his exam again, just to read over more of it.

He doesn’t know how, but he fucking did it. A 94% on his english exam. He really couldn’t have asked for anything better from this, he was sure he was getting at best a 70, yet here he is, reading over comments like ‘really interesting points here!’ and he feels like he’s back on top of his shit. Almost.

“Boys! How are you?”

Keith jumps a bit at her sudden outburst. He assumes that it’s just more kids coming to get their grades from her, and so he steps off the the side to allow whoever it is to be able to properly speak with her

“Hey Piper,” says one of the boys she welcomed.

“Hey Ms. P,” another one greets, and Keith stops reading his paper.

“Lance,” Keith mumbles to himself, turning to look at the people who came in, his eyes landing on the blue eyed boy now walking over to him.

Lance gives him a lazy smile. Keith smiles back, and looks over at Hunk, who he came in with.

“Oh, hey Keith!” Hunk greets, and Keith feels stunned, because he wasn’t sure, and didn’t even really think about all of Lance's friends being nice with him again.

“Hey,” Keith stutters out, offering a slight wave.

“Oh I didn’t know you all knew each other,” Ms. Piper exclaims happily.

Lance chuckles, and looks at Keith.

“Yeah I like to think we know each other quite well,” he explains, and Keith’s heart flutters.

“That’s so great! Oh, and Hunk, here is your exam.”

Keith watches as she bends down hurriedly and scans through a seperate file than his own was in. He can hear hunk breathing loudly, presumably anxious and Keith wants to help in some way. He can’t though, so he just stands awkwardly clutching his own exam.

“How’d you do, buddy?” Lance asks the second Hunk has his exam in his hands, looking over Hunks shoulder down at the paper.

There’s a short moment of silence, and Keith watches the two boys as Hunks face goes from petrified to relaxed.

“78,” Hunk replies with a sigh. “That means I have the grades I need to keep my admittance.”

Lance wraps his arms around Hunk, excitedly cheering, and Keith watches with a small smile of admirance on his lips.

Keith hands his exam paper that he was still holding onto back to Ms. Piper, and begins unravelling his headphones.

“Have a good summer, Keith.”

“Oh, yeah, um, you as well,” Keith replies, genuinely surprised that she cared to comment on

“I hope to have the pleasure of teaching you again next year.”

Keith looks at her in awe, a small smile growing.

“I hope so too.”

Keith gives her a grin and walks out the dim classroom then, popping in one of his earphones to make his way upstairs to Mr. Howden’s classroom.

“So, you’re a nerd,” Lance says coming up beside Keith.

Keith jumps slightly, not expecting Lance to have followed him out, but quickly enough is sputtering as a reaction to Lance’s observation.

“Well, I, uh, if we’re stereotyping, then I guess so, what about it?”

Lance chuckles, running a hand through his hair.

“Guess I’m just trying to figure out who you really are.”

Keith breathes out a surprised chuckle but doesn’t look at Lance, just keeps on walking down the hall.

“Also, we never really talked about grades, just sort of assumed you didn’t care about them, suppose,” Keith sees Lance shrug from his peripheral vision.

“Yeah, I- Well I guess I care a lot about grades actually,” Keith murmurs finally looking at Lance.

Lance hums in response, looking at Keith with his small smile he’s had on since Mrs. Piper’s room.

Keith pushes open the doors to the stairwell and begins tracking up them, until Lance stops on the first step.

“Well I have to go find Hunk again, promised him milkshakes if he passed that exam.”

Keith looks at him from halfway up the stairs. He probably looks stupid, come to think of it, with his hand clutching the railing and his face holding a questioning look.

“Oh,” is all he manages to say. Keith wonders if he’ll ever be able to form real words and sentences around anyone other than Shiro.

“I’ll see you around though, yeah?” Lance says, almost as if he was asking for reassurance that they would in fact see eachother again.

“Of course.”

\-------------

Keith wakes up after many hours of in and out sleeping to a loud noise.

He feels something beneath him, something tickling his chest and vibrating a bit, and he yelps, flinching back, disoriented in his only half-conscious state. He realizes he needs to pick up his phone.

"Hello?" he murmurs. He glances at the clock on his bedside table and, okay, his thoughts murdering whoever is waking him up so fucking early kind of have to disappear, because it’s nearly twelve. Keith figures that Shiro must be at work because otherwise he’d have been forced up by nine to make sure he wasn’t dying.

It’s Lance on the phone, though, Keith realises after hearing his voice, slightly gravelly and low, and taking a glance at the caller ID.

"Hey, Keith," he says.

"Oh," Keith just about squeaks, trying his best to regain his composure. He’s kind of acting like an idiot because it isn’t as if Lance is his first crush whom he has barely spoken to, who maybe occasionally smiles at him in biology or something- this isn’t an American high school movie, as much as Keith’s life has recently seemed like one.

This is Lance, for fuck’s sake. Lance his ex, Lance who he had sex with and Lance who definitely does not need to think that the real Keith Kogane is an eleven year old girl.

"Sorry, you just surprised me," Keith says. "I only just woke up."

"I didn’t wake you, did I?"

Keith considers. "You kind of did," he says. "But that’s okay. I should have a better sleep schedule, anyways."

"Tell me about it," Lance mutters. "I only got about two hours of sleep last night; my skin is yelling at me."

Keith thinks that that’s probably because Lance was out doing Lance things, driving along highways and drinking and getting stoned-or maybe high off of something other than weed, who knows. And he doesn’t think that that’s a bad thing, that’s just Lance, and the way he is. He isn’t like Keith, who crashed the second he got home from school then proceeded an all-nighter because he couldn’t stop rewatching ouran high school host club on netflix, watching the dumb animation as he flew between conscious and semi-conscious all night.

"So," Keith says, after a few moments in which he totally doesn’t falter on several occasions and feel butterflies kicking at him in the ribs. "Why are you calling me?"

"Don’t you want to speak to me?" Lance says, sounding hurt.

"No!" Keith says. "Fuck, I mean- yeah I do, don’t think that-"

"I’m joking," Lance says, letting out a chuckle. "You’re still as nervous as ever."

"Oh," says Keith. He doesn’t really know how to react.

"I was just-" Lance pauses. "I was just thinking that, you know, we said we’re going to be friends and hang out and stuff, but I’ve barely seen you, and yesterday reminded me how nice it is to be around you and- fuck it. I really miss you, Keith."

"You do?" Keith’s a little surprised. Sure, he’s missed Lance, missed him a fucking lot, but Lance is the one who probably still has a little bit of resentment for Keith, and Lance is the one with the multitude of friends who he can spend his time with instead, and Lance is the one who could get anyone he wanted to spend his time with.

"Yeah. Fuck. I feel like a dick."

"I- miss you too," says Keith, slowly and honestly.

"Okay," Lance says. "Let’s just cut past all of this cheesy shit. Wanna meet me at 2?"

"Sure," Keith agrees, still trying to wake up more. "Uh, where?"

"Come to mine?"

Keith’s nervous, his throat full of butterflies, and he nods before he realises that Lance can’t actually see him. He really should have actually slept.

"Okay," he says.

Lance cuts the call.

\-----------

Walking to Lance’s, Keith is a little on the edge. He’s nervous, tense, because now that it’s all over he can’t really know, or quite frankly remember, what parts of himself he showed Lance.

It doesn’t feel as if he really changed himself all that much while with him. Yet he knows that he must have, because Matt and Pidge watched him slowly change into a different person, and the entire situation is just complicated, confusing and blurry to Keith. And there’s a chance that Lance will fall for who he is now, but there’s the same likelihood that he’ll just run in the opposite direction.

He turns down into Lance’s street.

A tidal wave of anxiety hits him. Because Keith has been unpopular all of his life. He’s always been the loner, the one without parents or social skills and he’s never really been liked by anyone other than Pidge, and Matt, and the odd other person who came and left; so why would Lance like him, or any of Lance’s friends like him either.

And the tall houses surrounding him on his walk make him feel like he’s trapped suddenly, unable to escape whatever is going to happen with Lance and his relationship. Keith didn’t know big homes could feel so scary, they had always seemed so desirable.

Hepushes through the front gate with certainty, yet pauses a few feet away from the front steps of Lance’s home, shuffling slightly. He wants to run suddenly, he’s filled with this urge to just panic and lose it and run a mile like he does when he doesn’t know what to do anymore. He also decides that hiding out under his bed wrapped in all of his duvets and texting Lance saying that he can’t come is just as great of an idea.

He can’t do this. He’s not willing to make a fool out of himself, and he’s just a bundle of nerves. He won’t be able to talk right, he’s going to fuck it all up all over again. There was a reason why he hid who he really was from Lance, wasn’t there? He takes a step back, preparing to leg it.

"Well?"

Keith jumps and lets out a yelp. He looks up, still startled, only to see Lance sat on his open window ledge, with one leg out laying on his roof. He’s smoking a cigarette and looking down at Keith with raised eyebrows and eyes that you can see questions being asked through.

Keith gulps, letting out a long sigh. He can’t run now. He’d look like even more of a fucking idiot, and it would also be an asshole thing to do now. So Keith swallows back his urge to cry or stutter or anything else similar, along with the onslaught of horrible thoughts and those damned butterflies, and he shoots a strained smile at Lance, waiting for it to become relaxed.

"Hey," he says. "I was just-" he swallows. "I couldn’t remember which house."

And then he instantly feels guilty for lying, because lying was the entire reason they were in this situation, so he sighs heavily, shaking his head.

"Okay, that was a lie. I was- I’m nervous," Keith admits. "I was trying to prepare myself."

Lance stares down at him, inhaling a drag and breathing out, seemingly unbothered by Keith’s quick change of tone.

"Okay," Lance says. "Doors open. Just come on up."

Keith nods.

Walking through Lance’s house is kind of surreal; he’s only been here a handful of times. Most of which being when it was dark, a starless sky looming down on him and Lance as they stumbled home, and Lance had gripped his wrist and kissed him hard and they would struggle up the stairs, a little lust-struck. Or when they’d been high, and they’d flopped onto the couch and Lance had rolled another joint and kissed Keith, lazily, and he’d had a fuck load of fun but made a lot of mistakes.

And so he’s never _really_ seen it all before when he hasn’t been drunk, or tired, in a rush, hungover, or too caught up in Lance’s touch to notice; he takes extra time looking at the photographs splayed all over the walls, smiling when he catches sight of what has to be Lance aged seven or so, sticking out his tongue to the camera and gripping hold of a Playstation 2 remote. Or another of a blue-eyed baby with a big smile and dimples.

He reaches the top floor and navigates himself down the familiar halls to the front of the home, feeling his hands shake from nerves.

Keith pushes open the door to Lance’s bedroom, surprised that he could steady his nerves enough to twist open the knob.

Keith looks over to where the large window in the room is and stands frozen in place looking at Lance, eyes closed and smoke leaving his lips.

"Hi," Lance says, taking one more drag before throwing his cigarette out of the window and into the road.

Lance turns his head and opens his eyes to look to Keith, his usual half smile being sent his way.

"Hey," Keith replies. He can’t help but let his eyes wonder around the room, and he can’t help but think of the last time he was here, and he can’t help the blush that crawls up his neck.

Lance’s eyes dart down to the crumpled packet of cigarettes sat next to his thigh on the windowsill.

"I’d offer you one, but I don’t think-"

Keith shakes his head. "No, I don’t smoke. I mean, like- Yeah, but, no. I’m sorry."

"No, no need to be sorry for that," Lance’s lip curls higher. "More for me, you know?” Lance smiles at Keith as he straightens himself up and grabs hold of the cigarette pack, placing his lighter inside. “I do wish you’d told me though."

"I know," Keith says, biting his lip. "I should have. I mean, it was nice, yeah. Like, once I got used to it. But it’s just not something I like and-"

"Keith," Lance says. "Chill. It’s fine. We’re fine." He gestures for Keith to sit by him, and Keith does so, awkwardly walking over and perching himself up on Lance's dresser in front of the windowsill.

"Good," he lets out a breath of relief. Fuck.

Keith tries to get more comfortable, shifting his body as far back on the dresser as he can and leaning his head in the corner of the window and wall.

"So what do you like?"

"I never lied about the things I like," Keith says. "I mean, well, obviously I did about drinking and drugs and stuff. I don’t really like those. I’m not against them, but-” Keith cuts himself off with a sigh, realizing his nerves getting the best of him this time. “I do like the same music, though. And the same movies. And I like driving in your- or Hunk’s- car, because I like that you drive really fast sometimes. And I like noodles, and- lots of other things."

Lance lets out a small laugh, taking out his lighter from the box he just put it in. "You really are nervous, aren’t you?"

Keith nods, watching Lance flick his lighter on.

"It’s not because you think I’m gonna stab you, right?"

"No!" Keith’s cheeks flare up a bit, and he quickly turns his whole body to look at Lance. "God, no. It’s just because- well I want you to still like me and, I don't know, I think I’m just perpetually nervous."

"I do like you," Lance says, taking a cigarette out and lighting it out the window. "A lot, actually. I still like you like- I still want to be in a relationship with you, you know? That’s how I like you. But I just- I want to get to know you first."

Keith nods, swallowing, watching as Lance takes a drag. "I know, yeah. But if you don’t know me then how can you still-"

"We’ve been through this," Lance says. "I don’t think you lied about who you were, I think you were being honest when you said that. But I kind of want to see for myself, yeah?"

Keith nods, silently. "I don’t think I was."

His eyes meet with Lance’s, and they are both silent for a long moment. It isn’t tense, or uncomfortable or awkward in any way at all. They’re both just thinking, and Keith’s heart is racing.

"I want to kiss you," Lance says, finally ending the silence. "But I don’t know if that’s a good idea."

"Oh," Keith says, a little stunned.

"Then again," Lance continues, taking a long drag before continuing. The waiting has Keith’s heart pounding into his head. "Most of my ideas are fucking terrible, and I still do them. And I _really_ want to kiss you, but at the same time, I don’t know. Things might change, and we might not get back together at all. And I don’t wanna mess anything up."

There’s a long pause again as Keith thinks about what Lance had just said, and he watches as Lance looks at the cigarette in his hand intensely.

"I wouldn’t hold it against you," Keith mumbles, ducking his head so that his long fringe falls over his face more.

It’s quiet for a long moment, until Keith feels Lance’s cool fingers brush against his cheek, pushing his hair away from his eyes behind his ear. Keith feels tingles from that gesture and even then, neither of them really say anything. Everything is sort of still, as if they’re frozen with Lance holding his hair back and Keith watching Lance’s face intensely. Keith vaguely hopes that Lance doesn’t fall backwards, because he’s still sat on the edge of the window that is wide open.

And then Lance is pulling Keith’s chin up and is kissing him, softly, lips barely touching and Keith freezes up for a minute before shrugging away all of the thoughts racing around his head, until he isn’t thinking about anything except for Lance, and he melts into the kiss.

All too soon for Keith’s liking however, Lance pulls away and takes another hit of his cigarette that had been held quite close to Keith’s face during that kiss.

Keith watches Lance smoke with a pull in his chest. He wanted to kiss Lance even more, and it didn’t matter to him whether that was rational or not.

After maybe a minute of Lance just smoking out the window in silence, he looks back down at Keith, and Keith decides quickly that if he wants it, he’s going to go for it.

Keith surges up quickly, perching himself on his knees in between Lance's legs in order to meet his lips with his own. Lance makes a humming noise, and Keith cant figure out if its from shock or pleasure, but either way he keeps moving his lips. Keith’s vaguely aware that he’s half on his knees and half stood and starts to move around slowly, hoping to find a more practical position. It’s clumsy on his part at first as he settles himself into a more comfortable position, yet he somehow ends up on the windowsill with Lance, largely straddling him with one leg in the room and the other bend underneath him on the windowsill.

Once he has his bearings on the windowsill, Keith grabs hold of Lance’s face in his hands and continues to kiss him, still kind of moving the leg he had inside around for the perfect position.

Keith feels Lance shuffle slightly from under him, sliding forward slightly allowing them to be more comfortably together. Keith lets out a small mewl at the movement and moves one of his hands to Lance’s neck. This instigates Lance to grab hold of his waist, pulling Keith even closer and deepening the kiss. Keith feels Lance flick his free hand, presumably to toss his cigarette, before cupping Keith’s face and pulling him in for more. Keith feels invigorated kissing Lance again, especially on the windowsill in this position. It gives him a rush that he had began to miss.

Keith moves both of his legs to be wrapped behind Lance’s back as he tried to ignore the way his jeans were getting tighter the more this went on for. It was clumsy and his own motions were awkward but he kissed back excited and elated, he did insinuate this after all.

Keith shivered as he felt Lance move his hand into his hair, twirling it ever so roughly.

“You like your hair being played with?” Lance askes mumbled between kisses. Keith lets out a pleasurable moan as Lance begins tightening his grip in his locks, which garners a chuckle. “Good to know.”

Lance then moves both of his hands to Keith's waist, and turns the both of them off of the windowsill. Keith instinctively wraps his legs around Lance's hips tighter and deepens the kiss once again, enjoying every moment of this. Lance grips at Keith’s ass and stands up, causing both of them to make a noise. The change in positions doesn’t stop Keith from being able to feel a bulge growing in Lance’s jeans, and suddenly Lance sits them on the bed and Keith is sitting on the bump.

Lance lets out an almost growl like sound, and Keith can’t even lie about that being the hottest thing he has ever heard.

Lance pulls Keith closer to him once he’s laying back on his bed, leaving Keith once again straddling him. This time however, Keith is overtaken with some kind of confidence he wasn’t even sure was really him, and he grinds down on Lance’s cock under the jeans.

Lance moans loudly at that, his hands tightening on Keith's ass at the feeling. Keith begins to do this over and over, moving his shaking hands and trembling fingers to his chest, twisting at the fabric on either side of his ribs. He feels Lance smirk on his lips, and Keith momentarily believes that this is a cruel, humidity induced dream. If it is though, Keith decides he doesn’t want to wake up; he’d quite happily sleep forever.

Keith moves his right hand down a little further towards the hem of Lance’s sweater and begins to pull it upwards. It takes a few seconds, but Keith manages to gain the willpower to pull himself away from Lance and remove the hoodie. Lance puts his hands back into Keith’s hair as a response, earning him a gasp from Keith without having to even tug on it. Keith, feeling a little embarrassed by his premature reaction, hurridley throws Lance’s hoodie across his room, and proceeds to kiss him once again, slipping his tongue in with ease.

Shifting forward as much as he could, Keith could just barely manage to get Lance's body slotted against his, his hips rolling slightly with his movements. His hands slipping down from Lance’s face, sliding along his neck and pushing himself. Lance sighs, and Keith assumes that it’s a good one so he keeps some of that pressure as they continue to make out, gaining a good steady rhythm. Keith eventually moves his hands lower, his moans echoing into the kisses as he slips Lance’s loose shirt from his shoulders and touches his bare skin. It’s hot to the tough, even more so than the rest of Lance, and Keith lets out a small approving hum.

Lance was pressing himself as closely to Keith as he could, Keith’s hips rolling now instinctively and Lance arched into it just as eagerly, hungrily.

Keith whimpers as Lance arches harshly into his hips, feeling how hard they both were. Keith lets himself enjoy it, taking it in more than he had the many other times he been this intimate with Lance. Keith lets out a noise somewhere between pleasure and frustration when Lance speaks again. He pulls back, brows raised slightly as his hands move to rest on Keiths cheeks.

“Oh, wow. That, uh-”

"Do you want to stop? I- I’m sorry, oh god,” Keith interrupts almost immediately. His face was burning, slowly thinking of all that he had just done and instantly being embarrassed by himself. He can’t in the slightest wrap his mind around what the fuck he just made happen.

“I mean not really," Lance chuckles, running a hand through Keith's hair softly. "But, we should. This isn’t healthy for us to do. It's still so soon,” Lance sighs. “I did go into that saying it was a dumb idea.”

Keith lets out a long breath, still very much in awe of all that just happened, and growing more aware of the size that his pants are.

“That was a really nice dumb idea,” Keith says with a small, unsure smile.

Lance laughs.

**Author's Note:**

> follow me on tumblr if u wanna be up to date with this and ask questions: dragonaire.tumblr.com  
> 


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